Everyday I would get rid of my first sheep. It would come back. I'm not sure if it was meant to be, but I later accepted my first sheep.
However, I kept it hidden.
I let people push me around, put me down, and worse of all I let them not know the real me.
I want to play sports. I want to come to the party. I want the rumors to stop. I want to be a part of the crowd.
But I can't.
I do not belong with them. I can't play sports, join their parties or groups, and they still passed out lies about me.
I was a nobody.
I knew nothing of the outside world because I had no phone, computer, or account for socializing online.
Any online games were forced to be played offline.
Any time a friend wanted to text me- they couldn't. We didn't have a cell phone and when we got one, I never had any numbers to add.
My first sheep was something I couldn't leave now.
My first sheep is a part of my memories now.
My first black sheep is a part of me now.
YOU ARE READING
Counting Sheep
Teen FictionOne sheep, two sheep, This is not helping at all. Three sheep, four- Someone kill me, I must snoop this low. Five sheep, six sheep, I feel tired, but the waters still flow. Seven sheep, eight she- It looks like the sheep hit a wall. I guess eight sh...
