Day 3

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It was a Sunday night when Samantha King died. So of course, the next mprning I opened up my locker already super depressed with the news when I saw something out of place.

How did I know it was out of place?

Well first of all, it was stuffed into my locker through the holes so it fell out.

I had never seen it before and I instantly knew what it was.

Well, sorta.

You see, I just thought she wrote a really long suicide note and didn't bother to pull out the pages.

No, it was her entire journal. From her first day Westman High to just a few days ago.

I didn't want to read it at school because I knew that my mascara and eyeliner would start running. Crying is embarrassing whether or not you have makeup on.

So, when I got home that's what I did. I read it and cried.

I cried because I suddenly felt everything that Samantha felt. I could feel the cuts and bruises I gave her, physically, emotionally and socially.

And I had no valid reason to give you those cuts and bruises.

No right to inflict that pain.

So why did I?

-Edi

Im going on a date with my crush on Tuesday!!!! Im so happy!!!!! And she's probably reading this rn so I'll stop... :)))

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