If you think for a second, I shall give you a minute. One moment you are talking, the next it seems the world stopped moving. The child in death is a sad one. The kid no one liked. The boy they all hated. He made his friends through his own mind. The world he made was one of love. The world he lived in was one of cold fear. He sat there in a corner, in his world. Hours went by, yet still he sat, perfectly still. Then one day, his world turned against him. His friends that he had made with his own mind left him for dead. Once again he was alone. Once again blood spilled red.
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To Be Real?
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