The Ghost Of His Past

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   As this continued on and on. Me and my dad would go to our neighbor's shop a few miles down the road to visit his friends and the weird pedophile-like animal that he was. I'm not even going to call him an animal. He's a creature. A monster. When me and my dad would go to the shop, that monster would take me into the back bathroom and make-out with me. Every. Fucking. Goddamn. Time. Except one time that he was asleep, and take my word for it, he looked like a hibernating bear. Belly and everything. He even farted a few times. It was disgusting just like his rotten, termite soul.
   Within sometime, we never saw him or his father ever again. I was still left with the scars, the demons, the freckles, the wounds that constantly cut into me made by the ghost of his past.

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