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I still hear the screaming when I close my eyes.

My clothes burn as I find myself corraled into a park.
A medic comes running from the fog.
Thick, billowy clouds of tear gas sponsered by our tax dollars.
He screams in agony. Tears roll down his face.
I hand my goggles to the man and urge him back to the front lines.
More screaming and gunfire indicate police had closed in on the otherwise peaceful protest.

After that, I carried my camera.

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