This is Blue, lead terrorist from Communist America. She saw one of her comrads rather depressed over a suicide and another death. As is the life of a terrorist, I guess. So one night, she couldn't sleep. He couldn't either. He sat at the dining room table cutting in to the palms of his hand, whispering to himself, when she took her favorite knive and began to carve in to her stomach the words that she can never bring herself to say. It didn't stop there. She continued to her wrists until it brought her to tears. He just stood there, looking up at her. Blue dropped the knife and turned, going back to her quarters.
This one's for Reese. Please be happy.
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