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    AT THIS AGE I CANNOT FEEL TIREDNESS. IM NUMB


    "...everything went black. All I could see is Darkness."
    I opened my eyes that day into that day into the reality of life- the hatred of trust and the reasons of lies.
    Every day I would wake up and glance at my father's bed, he's not there. Nothing's
    new.
    As I stepped down the stairs, I could hear him gulp and smell the distinct scent of that old brandy he takes every morning as his coffee.
    Just a glimpse and I was gone. Weary and worried. Hungry and scared.
    "Alms, alms, share me some alms for food."
    A Dialogue that retains in my head even when I feel like I'm Dead.
    "One... Two... Three..."
    Three coins splattered their way into my can. Yes, this can. This was a gift from my mother on my 7th birthday. It contained bits of potatoes.
    I could still taste them on my tongue. Ah, my mom. She passed away when I was ten. She caught an accident while strolling around the highway. They had a fight that night . The agony of her scream still echoes in the walls of my ears.
    And in this can I spoke, "When time comes, mother would be proud of me, I promise."
    It was getting dark. It was time to go back to that deserted place where even dying rats couldn't stand a dare.
    At this age, I cannot feel tiredness. I'm Numb.
    But someone bumped on me. He grabbed the can from my hand. Took all the money I've collected. And laughed like thunder clashing during storms.
    Then I felt a hand blow on my chest. That was the only time that my knees trembled, making me kneel down as if I'm Crippled like a worm once dubbed with salt.
    I heard a loud scream. A cry of pain. But I didn't know where it came from.
    As the pain seized me, the shouts got quieter. And quieter... and quieter... Then there was silence