Were things always as bad as they were? Who knows, though if anybody were to know, it'd be you, you suppose.
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Anyway, you guess you should start off this story, get the ball rolling and such. This story begins on December 24, 2017 at exactly 12:00 AM. You live in a small house that's very dark, cold, and dirty, with cracked windows and walls, broken glass everywhere, dirty clothing and pillows and things everywhere. Your parents never took very good care of the house, you and your sisters tried but after they both left you lost motivation. The only things that have really stayed the same are the crosses everywhere.
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It's the very beginning of Christmas eve, and you stand alone in your room that has nothing but a broken lightbulb, dirty pillows and a gross blanket, a cross hanging above the doorway, and cracked concrete walls, rotten wood floors, and a concrete ceiling. The only light in your room comes from a single window, which is a bit big, that once had curtains but the rod broke and your too short to fix it. As this room is currently your own, it will remain your tomb no longer, as you plan to sneak out. You try to sneak out the window, although it's a bit hard since you're in your 24/7 angel costume your parents force you to wear, which contains big fake wings, and a big skirt with some static fluffy thing all around the bottom of it, but you make it.
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And this, begins your lonely walk through the snow. It's cold, yet you hardly feel it. All you feel is the soon to be taste of freedom, and a new flavor of loneliness, as now there's nothing and nobody around you, no walls or people, just very spaced out homes with sleeping people in them.
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