Sinopsis
He was sitting in the middle of the room. He held a photo tightly in his hands. The red and swollen eyes, and the hard body, betrayed the boy's condition.
He had spent the night crying and in the same position. Just like yesterday, the day before yesterday, and so on.
The boy could barely recognize the faces anymore. Almost. He carried this photo everywhere he went as if it were a good luck charm. He never took it out of his pocket. That's why she was so wrecked, she'd been hit in the washing machine over and over again.
He could barely recognize his face.
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Ver perfil"I can set myself on fire and be noticed." Heello pessoas! Prazer, meu nome é Aline, mas vocês podem me chamar de Allie, eu ten...
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