Dear Diary, September 2nd, 2014
Today at school was just like any other day with shouts from down the hall criticizing my appearance. I worked the day away with my head shoved into the textbooks to avoid all contact. During lunch I found an empty table in a back corner that gave me easy access to the doors but kept me away from crowds. When gym rolled around I hid away in the bathroom since the gym uniform would put my scars on display. The bus ride was clearly eventful by the large array of brutal notes that were not so discreetly tossed into my lap. I would open the crumbled piece of paper, read the words that were meant to inflict pain, then placedthem into my bag to dispose of them later on. By time I was home my father and It were already passed out, a twisted pile of limbs. I hope tomorrow is this easy.
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