journal info friends non tiembo mala post © Out from the night, from the mist steps the figure, no one really knows his name for sure. He stands at six-foot-six, head and shoulders. Pray he never comes knocking at your door. Now you can run, you can hide, you can try to. But he always has a way of finding you. He will come at your weakest hour, where no one is around who might rescue you.
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