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Literature Text
The winter rungs of the ladder grab back at gloveless sweaty palms who scramble up, running from some hollow screaming below to a point of light as far out of reach as the stars. The grotesque things that steal children's voices began to climb her Rapunzel hair, sharpening their claws as they slide closer.
A dream I never had
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Eww. I'm glad you never had such a dream. It kind of reminds me of the Silent Hill movie/games for some odd reason.