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K.TH

He reached the large gate. It opened with a creak. He walked through. It closed with a thud behind him.

He could still hear the crackling of the fire and he knew the whole building was in flames. The air smelled of smoke, and the night sky was an orange-purple colour, lit up by the fire.

He wouldn't look back. No matter what, he would not allow himself to turn around. He would not allow himself to even cast one last glance behind him.

What mattered was moving forward. Forgetting. Remembering. Surviving. 

Because he was a survivor.

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