Daisies lined the grave. All I could do was stare. The wall was too thick, too hard, too firm. Only a small bullet hole let me see what lay beyond that wall, but it was even harder due to being chained to a chair a metere away. My mothers screams filled my head. Why was grandpa doing this to me? He loved his daughter, so why is he burying her alive? I never will know, because for the next ten minutes, all I can do is listen to the tick of the bomb, and the roar of the lit fire on my mothers grave.
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