A NOVEL ABOUT THE VERY REAL SEARCH FOR SPIRITUAL PURPOSE
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My parents took me to get a puppy the day they told us they were getting divorced. At the shelter, I picked out a half-shepherd, half-chow. Black coat with a brown mane. She looked like she had lion blood. I named her Flame. She died when I was twelve. Tumors no one knew were there until it was too late. The day Flame died was the day I stopped believing in God. It was also the day I became obsessed with finding something new to believe in.