a piece about a murder, written for my advanced writing class

You could have been an angel, Tyler . . . an angel same the mavens in heaven, shimmering and golden and arrant(a) . . . however like you used to be . . . I go by dint of that. You only put this upon yourself when you made that decision . . . it was nobodys choice but your very own . . . you choose your own fate . . . I cope that. Maybe someday youll look back on this and laughter . . . or we could all be realistic . . . after(prenominal) all, its not every day somebody commits this kind of crime. . . I k instantaneously that already! he yelled at the nameless, anonymous amour that taunted him. Tyler rescript himself perched half way on the beach of his bed, his transfer gripping what was left of his blond hair, pieces and chunks torn turn out from his tortured fits of fury with the voices that stayed there and taunted him. You need to stay mollify . . . theyll found you out sooner or later, but mitigate later . . . right Tyler? Right. He hugged his knees to his chest, peering over them and into the dark of his room, his nightstand looming tasteful out front of him like a dark mountain, his wearing apparel piled in mounds, like foothills, around it.

The moon light shown by means of the blinds of his window in tiny slivers across his floor, little push down marks on the carpet, the ivory colored carpet that matched the now non-existant color of the one next door . . . There go out be hell to behave for this . . . you were stupid, very stupid Tyler . . . I know, he chimed again, beginning a steady back and forth rocking on his quilt. If you want to plump a full es! say, order it on our website: OrderCustomPaper.com

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