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                                        Chapter Two: The Unanswered Plea
                                
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... die here, but I'll die more times than them, I think.
I write this on my cell phone lying on the bottom bunk in a room hardly bigger than a broom closet. No one will ever see what I write, but if you do I hope you will heed my warning: stay away from the town called Carousel.
I see the red wallpaper in my mind all the time now. At first, it was only a flash like the impression burned into your eyes after you stare at a bright light for too long. Now, it’s a low burn—a glowing li ...
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