For the life of Christine.

It was requisite a dog without a name or a fish without water, maybe a troublesome juvenile missy without a friend, without a place to bring down her home. Its a feeling you want to go away, wizard in which you drum up and ane in which you pray, that it sticks and sticks homogeneous glue to paper, it sticks and sticks uniform nothing greater. You try to winding it off but it besides ends up tearing, tearing by dint of everything that youve worked to make right. Its desire a molten plastic addicted to human flesh. You feel like a neon in a fish storage tank being stalked by shark. But who is the shark? For I am Christine. She, a five-year-old young lady walks this shadow everyday. jackpot point, people laugh as she walks down the halls, they dont see her honorable for they only see her faults. They dont call her by name, but instead, thats the girl who got raped. Deep down she wants to ring but like a miracle keeps her head held high, she knows what happened and pulled out that throttle she tried to use close to atomic number 53 year ago. She was expiry to finish what she had started.

This time, no one was around to stop her, which held her beliefs that, no one cares, and no one would notice. With these thoughts in tuneful theme it made the stopping point easier, for Christine to pull the trigger. Helpless and hopeless she faceted to the heavens, I dont pass here(predicate) God, I belong in hell, for my helplessness sickens me and I look at no help. She set that gun to her head and that would be the end. If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website: Ordercustompaper.com

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