I have been on the bus

In the last days, the father only want him to stay in CiQin smile, he himself is built hut and stay in our permanent memory, however, that the extreme pain but open LengSen teeth and ferocious bite in tearing, talons, neuronophagia and tapping father every inch of the skin, every bone and every drop of blood, he can only in more dead than alive in mutter a suffering than a despairing groan; a sound than a sound gruesome crow calls. At the moment, my tears in PuSuSu to fall off.

Suffering is gray dawn singing of birds. At home, I have been on the bus to shed tears, 30 kilometers of tears. In every game shenglisibie, are the living heart forever injury. Now I still can feel that light long and steep change, solitary and melancholy dusk not advent, and hear the voice of mother and sister sobs.

Facing the coming from the father, that is how a thriller ah, disturbing, heartbreaking. Only mourn and wail hum most real and moved, I ever heard the most afraid tore heart crack lung, HuTianQiangDe, completely put aside decent and dignity cry, they stung truth hurts my heart. Not for it for its regret, shock, Not for its loud, for its sadness.