Alano
9:04 p.m.
After watching my mother cry over the children she lost, I’m even more certain that no matter how much I’m able to confide
in her, I must take the secret of my attempted suicide to the grave.
That’s what my heart is telling me to do, at least.
My brain knows that doesn’t make any sense.
Logic hardly matters as my alarming thoughts get louder and louder.
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