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Once Upon A December
And that's how he felt. Imprisoned. Trapped in not only a white cell, but inside himself too. Surrounded by familiarities that were now strange, and many things had become inferior. Things like food. Nothing mattered besides the girl lying enmassed in white on the bed before him, her eyes closed. Her eyes had been closed and she had been unresponsive for three and a half weeks now. And it was completely his fault.
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