Wolves.

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In a hovel of hunger the wolves trick,

The moon shines on the sick.

They are coming for us,

I try to think but my mind is like a bus.

I can’t feel anything as I see the wolves surround me,

I try to flee.

But they catch me,

They throw me against a tree.

I feel my bones snap, I know this is the end,

The wolves walk tauntingly over to me and when I look behind them, I see my friend.

She dives at the wolves, sword in hand, and kills them with one swipe,

She is like a snipe.

She comes over to me and draws out a gun,

Looks like I’m done.

She points it at me and horror goes through me.

She shoots me.

I fall to the ground, my blood trickling from the wound on my chest.

I look at my friend and she has tears in her eyes.

I feel the cold hand of death surround me.

This is my death.

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