Hello

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This is a very choppy failed attempt at a dark version of a fairy tale. But please bear with me. I'm a new writer seeking approval so please be kind to me I'm stamped as fragilE :))) thanks for reading!!

My eyelids felt like  lead weights as I struggled to pay attention to the endless drone of Mr.  Hammerfield. My chin propped up on my hand, I slowly moved me pen back  and forth to make the illusion that I was writing even though my pen  wasn't actually touching the paper. I jumped a bit as the bell rang and began to slowly pack my things when I felt a sharp tug on my hair.

     "OW"!, the person turned around and apologized. It wasn't really their  fault. My hair is ridiculously long. I had at least three feet of it in  my lap and still it trailed on the floor. I had never cut it it grew  like crazy. My mother told me that if I ever cut my hair I would die.  When I was younger I followed her with blind faith. However, when I turned thirteen I got curious. I cut a piece of hair off, a small piece,  I didn't think it would have mattered. I soon learned of my grave mistake.

     I  walked down the hall and watched all the other kids laughing and  socializing. It gave me a headache, so loud and obnoxious. I grabbed my  books and made for the exit. I hated after school clubs and stupid  socializing sports. My mother forbid it anyways. I was much smarter than  anyone at this school, they're all ignorant fools. I understood why  mother never let me be in after school clubs, my schoolmates were  monsters. Mercilessly they pick on each other without even a thought of  guilt or an idea of what they're doing might be wrong. I began walking  down the heated street. My house wasn't very far from my school so I began to get my punch card out of my bag. My mother was very strict and  had installed a punch card system so that she knew exactly when I left  and when I got home. It helped me and her feel safe. I stepped up the  beat up wooden steps to our house and inserted the old skeleton key into  the dark gloomy behemoth that was our front door. It gave our house a  spooky atmosphere. I stepped in, and began trying to adjust my eyes to  the darkness. My mother kept the shades down and boarded up many windows  with paper or blankets. I placed my punch card into the machine and  removed it when I heard the click. a fresh hole appeared in the card  stock like paper and I placed it in the many folder like slots mounted  on the wall next to the machine. I went to the stairs and started up to  my room. The stairs were a cold metal molded into a fierce looking  dragon that winded all the way up to the top of the house. I began the ascend to my haven. My room was in the attic which sat at the end of the hallway on the third floor with a trap- door as it's only entrance and exit. As I hoisted myself up into  my room I felt a wet stain on the soft carpet that engulfed the entire  surface of the floor. I had left the window open and it rained. There  was only one window in my room and it was a large window that pointed  directly into the sky. Some nights if I couldn't sleep I would lay down  underneath it and look for shooting stars so I could make my wish. I  made the same wish every time. I wished to known and seen. For people to  remember me when I leave this world and move on to the next. Suddenly I  heard the doors slamming and the lights began to flicker, mother was  home.

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