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Rated: E · Campfire Creative · Appendix · Arts · #1623149
Death takes all, no guilt or remorse.
[Introduction]
The screams of my conscience faded into a silent buzz. All that I
could hear is the echoing of her voice. It is as she were standing right
before me; her eyes blazing with disappointment for I had
screwed up once again. Her constant nagging and lectures
reverberating of the walls of my caged up memories.With each
vibration it awoke a chilling yet soothing fraction of her in my mind.

Her face is all I could mange to see in front of me. As I stared up at
the sky, the rain fell like the tears of my angel. the same angel that now
haunts me in my every waking moment. I still could feel her in my
arms. Her grip slipping from my fingers as she took her last breath.

She was a part of me. She was my voice of reason, my movement to
succession, my eyes to see the truth. She was my mentor, my hero,
my muse. She was my protector...she was my mother.

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