#100041 - When I had previously discovered the curious noise emanating from my fathers room all along had been the futile squeals of mother as father ravaged her, I have to admit I experienced a rather exhilarating sensation. I felt trapped, cornered by my own actions and made the final decision to kill my mother. The smell of mother's buttermilk rolls in the morning filled my nostrils and I stretched; wiping the sleep from my eyes.
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