Once upon a time in the not too distant or remote a place that housed thousands souls who had to mold them to the dangers and not cruel and feared flavors of the Kingdom of the harsh reality. But in those impenetrable stone walls without anyone perceiving a piece of the Kingdom of the harsh reality was installed, creating a network of scholars called Calvary Bullying. And the network on the bone callus ordeal almost a young child. Unlike of swashbuckling heroes was not handsome prince or in any way. One day the iron gates which were opened black maw of wolf and our hero came in and behind the closed doors and with it a curse whispered by the silence, no one will tell you so our hero. For a while the curse of bullying slept in the dark solitude of a forgotten corner, but was only strengthened within the hearts of people around our hero on those walls of brick and concrete, until the curse that black storm burst Fall darkening the soul of our hero. On became long periods of torture, not only physically but also mentally and ooohhh and bleed your body your soul bleed Ooooohhhh as flooding out of a black substance, because it was not nothing but their dreams were tinged with darkness and a thousand and fears. And calm hid in a room in a house. And from that oasis of momentary illusion that rarely left our hero, except Monday through Friday to be tortured by bullying. The stories came true hell for our hero, which tube to watch as the demons of their own fears and personal failings materialized in its history. A thousand times facing our hero in single combat, but the glory and value were not in combat, only humiliating and cold sensation of the face lying on the floor. There was only humiliation day after day, almost all the nations that surrounded our hero forgot about him and his history, his back. And the story of our hero sank into oblivion. But her ordeal did not end. Each year tube to endure endless attack of a thousand and a bleeding monsters and torture. The shell of his soul was broken into thousand pieces and stained with black spots. The sword was lost in some forgotten blacksmith, the blacksmith that he forgot to tell our hero for the collected. The squire and the horse, to say of those, went away to not see that it had become his master, once healthy, now apparently deathly ill physically healthy but her soul . There were no glowing sunrises, no more. There was more joy, no more. There was no consolation for our hero, not anymore.
how the story ends? Write a review putting the final you can think, who beat you in the womb. J ... ... ..
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