I kicked the car around on that river ghat, but it wouldn't start. She was in a very bad condition after being drenched in the rain for many days. It's been seven years, my first self-financed car. How can I leave her like this? Dicky checked and picked up my diary first. My diary, the one in which I write stories. My [thousands of] stories. I write, then publish to a website, and then the same horror stories end up ruining someone's life. Annihilation...and the hideout begins. Me, my story and the media behind it all, an unlucky person whose life has been ruined by an incident similar to my story.
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