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I liked Ben, I really did. I mean, he was a nice guy. We had some fun times together in college, messing around the dorm, going to parties, all the dumb shit that college guys do. He was cool and all, but he was a little… pretentious. Well, I guess the word he used was “artistic.”
With time, I forgot the nightmare. Or, rather, stopped thinking about it. I don’t think I can ever forget a sight that awful, but the image dulled over time. But that coldness always stayed imprinted on my mind. The farm was never a warm place again for me.