Again, back at ground zero for stress and mental agony. People seem to think it's something to give me pity for. I don't need your pity, I don't need your sorries. What happens, happens and there's not a damn thing you can do about it. Freak accident or not, I feel entitled to partial blame for this accident. When I saw him I knew he wasn't going to make it; the fire still eating him alive as he lied there oblivious to everything. The smell of cooking flesh is still deep within my thoughts as I rode with him to the hospital, not to mention someone back home waiting for me to make a choice; a mother in preperation... A baby waiting to happen. Somehow I do feel like I'm running. Running just to get the ******** out of here and start a better life with people that won't cause so much grief and insanity. All I know is I don't know how much more of this I can take before I give it all up and say "Hey, I've had enough. Let me just live my life the easiest way I can" and get by with hardly nothing but the clothes on my back. It rained like a river, fast and steady as I stood in it to take comfort in the warmth of a summer thunder storm. It made loud booming noises, ones of which reminded me of the sound the machine made as it blew. All in all, this is not the scariest thing I have witnessed but it sure isn't the last thing...
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