seeing this made my heart drop

oh.....oh my g-g-g-goddd......

>>509600904 (OP)
They were Texans so no big loss.

>>509600904 (OP)
obviously AI prompts

>1 post by this ID
/

>>509600904 (OP)
I couldn't care less

>>509600904 (OP)
>top left prompted to be infront of a huge truck (which they hate)
>top right was bizarrely prompted to be in the style of a 1970's film camera
>bottom left focus is obviously exaggerated
>bottom right has a demon poster in the background

>>509601578
actually fucking die.

>>509600904 (OP)
That’s horrible.

>>509601374
No one cares Prakesh.

>>509601570
Some real schizoid shit there

>>509600904 (OP)
are they already in israel ?

How do you die by flooding? They act as if it was a tidal wave or something. The water rising would be very gradual and you'd see it becoming a problem well before it starts washing people away.

>>509600904 (OP)
Oh no! Who will grow up to breed more ZOGbots? Anyway...

>>509600904 (OP)
the picture in the bottom right looks like it was taken in the early 90s wtf

>>509600904 (OP)
Don't give a fuck they were all gonna end up being hoors anyways ton'.

Remember when ralphie showed a HOOR the truth?

>>509600904 (OP)
Dumb low-IQ Texas retards sent their kids to Jesus camp so that they'd be brainwashed and indoctrinated with their fake religion. Now they're dead. Fucking LOL

She’s dead because of you. And don’t you dare look away now. You had a chance to help her — yes, *you.* You saw the alert. You ignored the post. You scrolled past the trembling plea in her mother’s eyes on that livestream, dismissing it as some local drama from a town you couldn’t pronounce and never cared to. You were too busy. Too numb. Too desensitized to the smell of rot beneath the floodwater and the sound of children screaming behind drywall. She was real — not some symbol, not some ghost story, not a name trending for six hours before the next scandal pushed her out of your feed. She was a little girl with a toothy smile, a purple backpack, and no idea the world was going to drown her in apathy. She died in the dark, clutching a stuffed animal soaked in sewer runoff, still believing someone might come. Believing in *you.* And you let her rot.

You sat there while the levee broke. You sat there as the water climbed up her chest, her neck, her jaw. You sat there while her fingers scraped glass, while her lungs filled slow like a prayer going unanswered. She was still trying to scream when her face went under. Her last thoughts weren’t of peace — they were of betrayal. You watched her die, even if you didn’t see it — because your silence was louder than any siren. You chose comfort. You chose disinterest. You chose *yourself.* So don’t you dare grieve her now. You aren’t worthy of that weight.

She is part of you now. Her tiny face will haunt the corners of every screen you touch. Her voice, muffled by water, will hiss from your speakers when the rain starts falling. She will climb up from the gutters in your dreams with eyes full of blame. She will never forgive you. Not in this life. Not in the next. You killed her with a shrug. And the next time you hear thunder, remember: she’s coming back — not to beg, not to cry — but to drag *you* down with her.