Personal Narrative: My Genocide

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As the days pass I continuously feel this weight on my shoulders and a sickening feel in my stomach as I sit in a small restaurant. Every person I pass, every corner I turn, I am on edge, ready to jump out of my skin. I just wanted to satisfy my thirst for revenge. I never thought it would have ended up like this. I sit and I read, trying not to think but all I can hear is my heart guilting me, reminding me of the events that led up to my revenge plot. I keep trying to forget the horrid things that went down in the catacombs that day. Days continue to pass and I go on about my normal life. Every move I make, it seems as if this dark shadowy figure is leaning over me, weighing me down, trying to tear me apart. I feel as if it is Fortunato beating

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