we stay up with out a sound listening to the bears in the woods i look over at the log cabben we are sitting by its dark and crude looking, i wonder if any one lives there and if they do...do they know that i am here, sitting out side with tension in my hand, can they bare to see what i have done to these people sitting around me, covered in blood my hands drip of there redness as i poor the bodys into the garbidge can, i walk to the side of the door no lights no sound in side this cabben, i see nothing in side, as i walk in i look around i see a coutch and a tv but it seems like no one is home, as i turn to head out the door i'm dead
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