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The Journals of Raymond Brooks  13
                 a  deep  breath,  trying  to  maintain  concentration  despite  the
                 throbbing migraine and she wondered; would she get to finish

                 the tale, or would she die here, tonight, being interviewed by
                 the media. It was something she’d longed to do for decades
                 now; tell the truth. In the end, she knew, this interviewer would
                 be left with a terrible choice; a burden few could handle.

                  Not long ago my stepfather died,  and  on  that day Benny
                 approached our house carefully, avoiding dry leaves and twigs
                 carefully with his feet, as he’d been trained. Covering his army
                 gear, wore black camouflage trousers, a shirt and a long coat.
                 It was the middle of the night, and everyone had retired to the

                 safety of their homes. They did not realize that we, my stepfather
                 and I, had made our home amongst them, pretending to be
                 human. The settlement which my father chose to call home
                 was  nested  in  a  secluded  location,  far  from  any  major  city.
                 Small houses and caravans coexisted amongst a natural forest
                 which predated the settlement. Raymond, my stepfather had
                 loved the countryside settings while I … I loved Raymond, and
                 so chose to share his home before my own demise.
                  As far as the killer of my father was concerned, this was the

                 ideal place for monsters to make their home. As he made his
                 way to our home, his heart raced, pounding in his ears. He felt
                 alive now for the first time since his brother died. The freezing
                 November wind, and even the heavy fog, hindering sight, and
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