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The Further Tragedy...

Ashes.

Darkness.

Plight.

Guilt to the point where I felt it's right to hurt myself and drown in drugs surrounded me for the next few days. I had no idea who founded me at the construction site or who brought me home. What I knew was I'd been a horrible son and brother and I dont deserve to live when I've snatched away the lives of my siblings.

The funeral has been held yesterday and even if it's not funny, it appeared funny that the entire town came to visit me offering their condolences. The site had been huge work of the government or so they said, and apparently whatever went on there has been converted into the national gossip for the next few days and since, I was the only one to be rescued, I'd been in the public radar. An ordinary playboy suddenly became the man of the hour fulfilling the duties of the son who couldn't die a peaceful death. I don't sleep. I don't eat. I do drugs. I lay hollow staring at the ceiling waiting for the sun to rise and set but I don't wait for any
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