The Fucking Death Rattles

I'd check the door three times when I got out, so, you know, she doesn't escape. And as he was there, right, convulsing and throwing at me, his little posh high-pitched fucking death rattle,. He'd go, do you love me now, daddy? No, no, no, I never did, and that's why you're never going to be born. A human baby. Oh, my God, the responsibility of a human life. Jevays: "Even if it made it through the terrifying cut years"