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Don't ask me how i did it Soundboard
The sound of a pen scratching against paper filled the room as the words "Don't ask me how I did it" were hastily written down. The sound was both soothing and chaotic, a reflection of the internal struggle that had led to this moment. The sharp exhale that followed was a mix of relief and defiance, as if the speaker was daring anyone to challenge the enigmatic statement.
As the door creaked open, the sound of footsteps echoed through the room. Each step was deliberate, a mix of curiosity and caution. The voice that followed was clear and confident, yet tinged with a hint of skepticism. "Don't ask me how I did it," it repeated, punctuating the air with a challenge that hung heavy between them.
The sound of a match being struck broke the momentary silence, a small flame flickering to life. The soft crackling that followed was intoxicating, a dance of light and heat that cast shadows against the walls. "Don't ask me how I did it," a whisper in the darkness, a secret shared only with the whirling smoke that rose into the air.
The sound of a door slamming shut jarred the stillness, a sharp punctuation mark that left an echo in its wake. Footsteps hurried away, each one a declaration of distance. The muffled sound of voices drifted back, tinged with confusion and disbelief. "Don't ask me how I did it," a mantra that remained, an enigma wrapped in a mystery that refused to be unraveled.
The sound of a clock ticking filled the room, each passing second a reminder of time slipping away. The voice that followed was barely above a whisper, a mixture of resignation and defiance. "Don't ask me how I did it," a refrain that echoed through the emptiness, a question without an answer.
The sound of footsteps approached once more, hesitant and uncertain. The voice that spoke was soft, almost hesitant. "Don't ask me how I did it," a question that lingered in the air, a puzzle waiting to be solved.
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