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... I don’t get up now.
The scent is so strong, it makes my lungs burn.
It feels like I am cremated alive.
I can’t see straight- just blurry shadows.
I think I am laying face down in my own spit. Or is it blood? Vomit? I can’t tell.
All I can move are my fingertips.
I tried to drag my body towards the room. To reach Luther. But I’m too heavy.
It’s like expecting a Barbie doll pulling a train.
But- just like Barbie- I need to t ...
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