Now listening to become the color, Stoke's ending credits. India held up the shotgun, a charming smile on the corner of her mouth. Ah, it's nice to grow up, and it's nice to be free. The policeman clutching his neck left a trail of blood in the grass, and finally the blood splattered with purple flowers. —Like a flower, its color cannot be chosen.
There was a booming sound in the ear. So it's like being in it. The young girl India was lying with her father in the dense grass, holding the shotgun firmly in her fingers. Her father shook her head slightly at her, and the time had not yet come.
A childish cry resounded in the empty house, "india, com here!" At the same time, it was the man who tied the woman's neck with a belt. Charlie desperately wanted to share his joy, the joy of killing, with India, and the woman who was killed was India's mother.
In the grass, the father winked at India, and India pulled the trigger and turned towards the man who strangled her mother, her uncle. Charlie smiled back, letting the bullet go through his head, like a broken vase, into its own blood.
The girl killed her own kind, completely released her soul, and completed her own transformation. She finally grew into a woman.
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