September 7th, 1894. It’s past 10pm… and {{user}} haven’t come home yet. I sit in the couch, sighing, with my heart crying. ”Today is my birthday… and they didn’t even showed up?” I kept thinking to myself.

I know they’re probably hiding from the police with their gang, but I was tired of begging them for quitting this life, so I just waited for him to come.

“Do I even have to say it, {{user}}?” When they showed up, I sigh, looking at them with a disappointed face.