We only accept yes and no in this house.
credit to the thing the tears are streaming and the boards are rotting I can't find it but it can find me i am losing my grip on reality its going to find me the closet doors will fall off and it will tear me from the deficit in the wall and its million tendrils will yearn for my flesh as it skins me and leeches the blood and sinew from my screaming body as i turn in agony my last moments will be torched with torment
