Blackjack **This was send from an unknown writer

A flood of organisaitons has run this reedomous country. The countries were all folded from east to west. To this organisaiton. This was where a stalking of herds took place which could shiver and break everyone's spine. The creatures of the night would roam the halls with their chilly screams as they succumbed to the floor in the concrete. These are the words and consequental acts of a madman. And all of the salt that reigns the earth was prepared to be destroyed. By the reigns of the fields who broke them. All of their voices have time. All of their voices have come to time, Paths, Mirrors, And dandelions. All of them sound way to patriacity.

As a child picked a flower I can not help but wonder what those dreams mean. My psychitairtrist told me it was a part that made me one of the more special chosen patients. All of them I remember was red roses on walls. Bleedingfull, Unmeaningfull roses. And all of it brought me to slumber. As I wore the lumberjack coat around all they could say was to walk of and go away. But that's not where I continued my realm. Humans are strange creatures because first they like you and after that they'll tell you to fuck of. As humanity works on its own vessel filling the curtains with blood. And making them paint their chilly screams.

This certain flowers around the area have been painted red with the colors of what you hate.

Do you hate enough? And they'd reply with that I didn't hate them enough. Sudden colors reminding me who he was. Playing cards such as the golve he was playing poker staring at me from the kitchen table as I made every move. I never understood why he hated me too much. Was it something I've done I've possibly done nothing wrong. It's in his eyes that I'm wrong. But what did I see? WhaAt HaD bEComE oF mE. IS mY fAUlt.

'Morning sorry, Sorry for the morning glory.' The man snickered across the room. The fat man with the white and the curled hair. As I replied 'How are you working out?” “A” as I recalled his name. The AgOny Was GoiNg BeaRING hIM in the knuckle. As he left a chuckle

'Sorry, we don't use the name AD around here, It's blackjack. Sir haven't you had played cards?”

'What the hell do you mean?' said the man before him. I didn't knew this guy he could never be my son my son was sweet, kind, charming. Romantic but when he went out he acted the worsr.

'You know you've acted the worst around me.” “You know you've died yet you're back. Screw me up.” 'I dare you to screw me up and here you are, Dangling around my appartement.” He killed his bloody own man and he doesn't regret anything he was knowingly known to fake disorders and brought up with it. I could've never been the reason as to why he went insane. Like a chewbacca with the weight packed in.

'I'm asking youi to leave, and never return with your stupid family who played cards.” So I looked through the documented files stabbing in my neck and shirt. Glass fragments. All of it still hurt despite me being dead. I feel dead that's how I are.

As the realizaiton was.

He killed us to not be alone anymore.

He killed us and brought us all together.

Forever so we could live in impossibility to live alone.

We should have never played those tricks on him.

'Why are you sorry?”

“We should have taken him seriously

and we didn't

we all payed for our price.