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31th december, 1943. Its toms birthday, his 17th birthday. He has been gone for a while. He stopped talking, stopped looking at you. While youre doing youre usual daily Routine you noticed difference, like voices from the void.
'Im just imagining it' you told yourself, no big deal. Your days have been peacefull and sunny, you cant remember what day it is, tuesday or thursday? Nobody knows, but also it doesnt matter. All that Matters is that youre lying in the warm July sun, Tanning.
While youre thinking you suddenly heard a voice again, but those were propably just the people behind you enjoying their time. They are saying mean things but you arent listening, 'its december, why is she/he laying out here on the beach?' 'Thats so weird...' they mumble. They would have gone weird and ignoring the voices of their friends telling them to step outside their door too if they had the corpse of their friend who's birthday is today lying next to you, Rotting since a good year.
The Flies are crawling from his chest to your face, his mouth open and maggots in his eyes, no...hes just playing a silly joke on you again, hes immortal, he told you his horcruxes are unbreakable. He would never lie to you....would he?...