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Twenty

I felt something twist and turn inside me, making me feel like I had eaten something bad. Then I went to hold my chest, and that wasn't the case. It was my heart that was breaking, sinking into my stomach. Sinking because love couldn't save it, it was unlovable, and the acids were probably feeding on it, making my insides burn.

When I was young, and Mama and Papa used to fight, I had one safe place, a dark hole where I would hide. The attic. It was my favorite place until it started appearing in my nightmares. At that time, when Dad would crush the table, break glasses out of anger, and everything, I would run into the attic and hide.

My favorite song used to be London Bridge before everything fell apart. Before my family was crushed down, before Papa let it all go without crying, he didn't even make an effort for all of us. He just sat back and watched it break.

Every day before I went to sleep, she would sing it for me slowly and gently. We had our own version of the song, differe
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