Description
Slowly dying, knives in my back from how often I get stabbed in it, using all my might to stop the tears. I never understand why we cry. I talked to you online for hours but it was hard to think what life would be like without the yellow bottle and the small devices keeping me on earth. Fuck me dying, I care about the people living. Its hard to wander at night knowing your friend could be dead. Its hard wandering in the school halls and looking around at all the relationships you never meant to happen, the ones you delayed by getting in the way... There will be situations of serious matters like depression, psychopathic behavior, suicide, child trafficking, drugs, alcohol, extreme violence, blood, and deep philosophical conversations along with meaningful poems. If none of this interests you, then don't read. If all of this interests you: VIEWER DISCRETION ADVISED
Prologue : Nightmare Disorder
