My notebook: the source of my death.
My notebook: the source of my death. notebook stories

adorable_writer Dreams are adorable. Always dream big<3
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A short writing from a notebook. Love for all mothers.

My notebook: the source of my death.

18-11-2020 Wednesday. 4:15 AM

Here it is midnight. I feel so alone without you. Why did you leave me, mom? Why?

I do not know the answer yet. I just want to get you back , mom. I remember, you kissed on my chin and told me, "shhh! It's only the sign of my love for you, honey."

I hate everything in the world now. Your imperfection has made my mind disgusted. I hate my dad, I hate my best friend, my school, even my favorite doll. They also don't want me anymore. So I want to go back to you, Mom, to her where I was born.

I am glad that I will see you. I have left the blade aside, I will take advantage of it as soon as I has finished writing. Blood will trickle down from my hands. From that little gentle hand.

You said , "This little hand is going to be just like my hand."

It hasn't grown yet. How big is a teenager's hand? Mom, I can't write anymore. The writings are getting wet with tears. - Your Angela.

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