Title: Optional

Text: I was raised in the valley, there was shadows and death. Got out alive but with scars I can't forget. This kid back in school, subdued and shy, an orphan and a brother and unseen by most eyes. I don't know what it was that made a piece of him die, took a boy to the forest, slaughtered him with a scythe. Stamped on his face, an impression in the dirt. Do you think the silence makes a good man convert? Each paragraph will be a test.

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