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The Way I deal...Dead. He’s dead. My grandpa. Pops. I was asleep (Hell it’s3:30am) asleep in my nice little cocoon of sheets. Voices. I get this weird feeling, (not that someone had died…but the feeling where you decide, “if I have to get up right now, and go to school, I will seriously beat the first person I see”.) It’s insanely dark in my room. Usually my night vision is damn good, but…maybe I was just sleepy. There are my parents, standing there. All I can see are two big black blobs, Two my mind grumbles…why two? “Pops is dead.” The sound comes out, but I can’t hear it. It’s so, blunt. Blunt objects hurt if you run into them. Like you misjudge the door fThe Way I deal...
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