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Tired

Dear Diary,
 
I'm tired. I'm tired of running. Tired of having to be cautious when walking around town after 10pm. Everyone knows what happens if you do. I'm fed up of it all. But somehow I still end up running back to Dead End some way or another.
 
The writing is smudged and there is a circle that is damp from a teardrop. There is also a smudge of blood.
 
That hurt. My arm hurts now. Ouch. I probably deserve it after all the pain i've caused for everyone else. 
 
I want to curl up and die.