She brought her hands up to her head and ripped out two long chunks of her hair, pulling out shreds of scalp. “I am glad,” she told herself, “I came. The tide'll bring him to us fast enough. When the word “FREAK” appeared scratched in the persimmon colored paint on her locker, she knew that in some fragile young woman’s mind a war had escalated from imaginary to physical. This time you cannot. .
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This video was uploaded to brazilianportuguese.biz on 01-07-2024 04:16:50
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