His mind was his pillory. He was shackled, guilt-bound, unable to escape the humiliation. Memories cuffed him, ran around freely as if mocking him. He didn't know how long his sentence was, but he feared it would last his whole life, and he was quite sure that he could not bear. "Leave me be," he begged in a whisper each night before he surrendered himself to sleep, to his subconscious. "Plesae, let me be this time."
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