8- The Tyrant
My very own sickness took its toll on me.
And three weeks later, that is right now, I still cannot
bear the truth.
All she, my dear Eliza, wanted was two apples from the
tree. So I ran across the street…
And I did not know what occurred, but trusted sources
claimed that my very own truck-driving mother nearly rid me of my life by
accident.
And they claimed Eliza pushed me out of harm’s way,
before letting her precious neck get driven over by the truck…
As for why did I enter into a comatose state, I do
not know.
All I know is that my mind is a weak one, and a simple
change of events could be disastrous.
Even now…
This autobiography of mine, I wish that people who
reads it will understand, as my mind is prone to making errors.
My writing table seems a little messy, and the bedroom
lights are switched off, and will forever remain off, I wish.
My mind will consume me in any moment, so as for now, I
bid farewell to whoever is reading this. I do not mean to cause any
disturbances to your perfect lives; I just want my story to be known.
As for my dear Eliza, oh my dear Eliza, you were dead
so very long ago and yet my mind did not accept your sacrifice. I’ve been longing
to spend my life with you, and I believe that humble wish will soon turn into
reality.
And I will meet you soon, my lovely mother. I am truly
sorry; my mind apparently did not accept your passing, just like what happened
to Eliza. But fear not, for I will spend an eternity with the both of you, very
soon…
What are you doing here Eliza? Oh please get off my
writing table, your cushiony butt is making me jealous of my own table…
Hey, you look beautiful today…
But I wish that we cAN BE TO - - --
OH ELIZA, WHY ARE YOU SUCH A---
t- -- yR- -an.t
apple
I love you, Eliza Marine--
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