I Swear I Won’t Bother You Again!

I've never mourned so little a child could do.

No matter how much knowledge you accumulate, no one should be trusted just because you are not old enough. Many times I was made to pioneer by the number of people whose life experience equals and thinks they are old. Because I'm young, I don't think I've ever had a hard time. Dreaming of innocent and pure children is self-serving, even though age is the years of life and not experience.

One system that hasn't changed in a long time. You honor your child like a gift from God, and the word of your child is taken lightly everywhere.

That's extra if you're an adult child in the next few years. I don't want to admit that I have a mind to think about things.

"Can't you do it again?"

Break and discard the returned plea paper until it is finely sliced, then see the overflowing crumb cage with the stack.

How many times was this? If you accept only what you receive and include what will remain unattended, your fingers on both hands and feet will be completely missing. Every time I get pushed back, I try to find another way, but in the end, it's only to this extent that I can do it for my child. I should have had some connections and connections, but there was no one to take Yulan's side as one on this one.

(unless you prepare for the next one)

The scattered paper pretends not to look at it and gets ready for a new plea. Though I know in the corner of my heart that it will never work.

Still, if I stop now, I won't be able to move in no time. Crushed by reality, he is abandoned without a voice, the same as a homeless child abandoned by the shadow of the country. That's not only for herself, but also for her captured in prison. If Yulan's voice disappears, the state will soon arrange for Violet's verdict. It doesn't even hang on my teeth that Marin keeps screaming like Yulan does every day, just like an ant crawling through the ground with the words of an ex-made.

Yulan's back to his desk in a room scattered with countless pieces of paper and dust, just the light from the window, is that of the fanatics attached. Servants who used to come to clean the room, even their parents, were no longer close to this room. Whatever you said, sometimes yelling momentum told you, because Yulan would never lend an ear, and everyone was only feeling creepy fear for Yulan, who was going to the paper with his blood-running eyes.

One, in a dark, dirty room, just makes Violet run the brush.

When I thought she was in a much darker and dirtier place now than here, I felt her brain boiled with anger. Suitable for that guy are sweet tea and treats to drink in clean air, a dress that feels good and simple, and time to smile at the comfort of the wind in the presence of soft light.

In an iron lattice that neither reaches the sun, it is fed the minimum nourishment necessary to live, and bound without liberty-

"Huh...!

A hook-clawed hand chooses wet paper in the ink. I didn't tear it, but it's full of wrinkles. That won't be useful anymore.

Just the discomfort of my imagination, I couldn't stand it. Cover the mouth you are about to throw up with a black stained hand with ink that has moved from the letter before it dries.

Disgusting, disgusting, disgusting, disgusting.

The people who pushed her into that place, the world, it's disgusting. The woman who is meant to justify it in words to atone for her sins, and around thinking of it as tenderness, feels much worse than the maggots flocking to the corpse.

Most importantly, I can't help but feel sick that I can't get her out of a place like that.

The blood flowing from the chewed lips was of a black, starchy color.