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Murder on a Sunday Morning

By: Atton Brown

Page 1, Me feeling bad on a Sunday after my parents pretty much told me i had no reason to be and wanted to kill them adn me

“Take a breath”
I tell him
It could be your last
To your imaginary friend
Fall on your knees
Like the coward you are
I hold the gun
To his head
The trigger
To see him die
He begs
He pleads
I smile
As I squeeze the trigger
The man is gone
The man who abused me by
His hands
His belt
His words
I cried
He yelled
Her turn
She is unafraid
But still she
To her imaginary friend
On her knees
But not out cowardice
She brought me here
They brought me here
But still I squeeze
The trigger
That I shall hurt
No more
They hurt me
Every day
But the pain lingers
I hold the gun
To my head
I hear the sirens
They are coming
“Double homicide and
Suicide with no note.”
I squeeze the trigger
But never feel a thing

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