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Mr.ElevenXI
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I'm not depressed.

I am just sad.

I learned I'm a good detective.

The bad way.

 

Hmm..

 

Care to explain?

 

Unless you'd rather not...

You should have less, at the very least.

 

...I'll make the attempt..

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Hmm..

Care to explain?

Unless you'd rather not...

A few weels ago a boy in the neighborhood which I was very close to disappeared.

My friend which is a detective was working on the case.

He along the boy's family had asked me to help with the search.

After a few days of searching and asking, we finally found the boy.

He was hanging upside down by a rope on a tree branch covered in dry blood, tears, wounds and semen.

It was his uncle who did it, he couldn't take the pressure and eventually broke to me.

After being judged, he was literally eaten alive by the prisoners in the same day.

We called her mother and gave her the news that we had found her child.

She was happy.

But then when we gave the bad news to her she didn't believe it.

She came personally to see what happened and arrived when me and my friend were on top of his car, cutting the rope to get the kid down from the ropes, his name was Aurélio.

When she saw it tears streamed down her face as she raised her hands to her mouth, crying and shouting that her life was over and that it was not real.

We comforted her as best as we could as authorities came and took the boy to the morgue.

The next day she was yelling at the doors of his college "Son, come out, dinner is ready!"

The next 5 days she did the same, believing that her god would bring her son back.

20 days later, which is today we go to her house so we could close the case and we find her under the stairs, hanging with ner neck choked on a rope, tongue out and a smile.

There was a suicide note from early today, in it was written : "I'm going to meet my son."

Edited by Snyphurr
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