I never wrote my words with intentions you'll hate me.
He asked me in his most serious tone, “...how am I supposed to leave you alone if you keep fucking with me?”
Cynthia finally caught up to me
August 2, 2004 was the day he finally decided to take me back to my mother.
Murell was modern, tranquil, polite, and honest. She told me she wasn’t crying because she ‘shouldn’t have done it,’ she cried because she felt free after their deaths. I found this a bit alarming and amusing, similar to Chopin’s short piece, "The Story of an Hour." Tears of joy and signs of reliefs from horrific actions. Chazron never happened to come back after his lunch, word in the office was he had a family emergency. Shortly after, a voice came booming from the front desk.