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Camp Dead

I took a deep breathe and slowly began to speak.

“I’d only left her alone at the camp site a few times. At first she had no problems at all, she just sat by our tent and read. Some men in the camp had been watching her the whole time we’d been there. They’d waited and watched and noticed that when I left her I was always gone for a few hours. They would hit on her, chat her up, call her “Baby”, “Hotstuff”, “Darling” and “Sweetchecks”. It didn’t bother her, very little did. We laughed about it. We didn’t mind, they defiantly didn’t but their wives did. They watched her. They blamed her. She had flirted with them. She had hit on them. She was after their men. She was a slut, a hussy. They knocked her down, beat her, kicked her. They broke her hands, stomped on her head. She was unconcious and they still kicked her. She’d screamed. She’d shouted. She’d bled. And then she died. And they just left her there.

and that ,Your Honour, is why I shot them. "

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