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Part of me wished that I was dead along with him.

Part of me wished that this sick bastard would put a bullet through my brain...

Put an end to me.

Just like he did to my father.

But now...

I was fixated on vengeance.

Fixated on watching this motherfucker burn.

I wouldn't rest until I got justice.

Retribution was mine.

I may not have been built for this way of living.

I may not have had it in me to see the things that I would have to see moving forward.

But I would have to put up with it.

I wanted to give up.

I wanted to die.

Not wanting to live like this.

Feeling helpless.

Feeling used.

But my father wouldn't want me to give up so easily.

He would want me to save myself.

To see the situation out...

Find a way to crawl out of it.

Move on with my life.

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