PROLOGUE

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Blood.

My blood are dripping down from my wrist.

I cut my own flesh.

And it feels so good.

I do this when depression is attacking me... And when I don't know how to give solutions from my problems.

When anxiety is eating my system.

And this is the only solutions I can do.

It made me happy.

I like hurting and cutting my own skin.

I like the pain.

I don't know when I started doing this but, I don't care anymore.

As long as I'm enjoying the feeling.

I don't care about those things and people surrounding me.

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