Chapter Four

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   If someone was to ask me at gunpoint, I still would not be able to fully explain what was going through my head at that point in time, suspended just about two inches off the ground in that disgusting room. The most random images that I can not even recall ran through my mind, not even bothering to make themselves into a story line. or even towards a point. 

  That was nothing compared to the pain. I felt like someone had cut my throat open, and had grabbed my windpipe and started to crush, as slowly as possible. I was barley aware of the strip of fake leather that was suffocating me. 

  The only thing that brought me back to reality was the surprisingly quite snap.

 My mind didn't register what it was at first. it was like some part of me had forgot I was hanging myself, the delusion that someone was chocking me was the only real thing present in my mind. 

 I fell onto the tile, bruising my knee, but besides that, I was relatively unharmed. I was still crying as I got up to wash my face off and rinse my mouth. Somehow, the fact I had just tried to hang myself didn't seem to matter, although I knew I would freak out about it later. However, I needed to focus now. 

   My stomach fluttered as I walked out of the dingy bathroom and into the even less appeling room that has served as my home for nearly two years. I grasped the handle and walked out into the hallway, which was still dark. I scurried down to the dining room, which was exactly the same as I had left it.

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