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Jan 2014
Walking home I hear a sound
So I turn around
Nothing there
Must be my imagination
So I continue on my way
Behind me I see a figure
Lurking in the shadows
So I quicken my pace
He shows up in front of me
Fangs glinting in the moonlight
He bites me on the neck
And ignores my desperate pleas
Then he withdraws
And I fall on my knees
Natasha Smith
Written by
Natasha Smith  Maine
(Maine)   
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