Over the years, Ive watched him grow. Through the baby stages to death. Ive seen the struggles, the joy, the despair. It was all clear. He neer gave a thought, that he wasnt alone in his room. He was never alone, I was in that location. I was there in the walls, the dirty spread over he refused to clean, in the posters, the holes, in that stinky boy face he emitted as a teen. I was there for him, hefty and tough as the walls. Comforted him as he sobbed on my carpet. I was his escape, his punishment. When he knew noone else was there, he would run to me. I was there. I was there for his arrival. I was there to watch him all bundled up and warm, smiling and asleep, more than peaceful then hell ever be as he grows old. I was there to soothe him asleep, as his mother drinks downstairs, and his take leaves. I was there for his first steps. I was there to guide him on my walls, begging for love and affection. I was there to praise him. I was there. I was there when he entered g rade school. I was there to nurse him when the kids teased him. He had no mother, no father. Endless torments berated him. I was there to accord him. I was there. I was there when he was 17. I was honoring as he tied the rope to the lover. I was there for the plans, the preparation, and the event itself.
I was there to pry the fan big from the drywall. I was there. I was there when he was 34. Living alone, safe(p) and captive in my walls. I was there as he arranged my insides to their cleanest perfection. I was there... this paper was inspired by a true story and it was wri! tten by a retard friend of mine not me...she did her best so develop mercy when ure rating plz If you want to get a ware essay, order it on our website:
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