Dear Bully,
It took days for me to wipe off the red paint on my locker.
I stayed until last night at school wiping it off while bawling my eyes out.
I can't stop thinking of the word written on my locker.
"KILLER KILLER KILLER KILLER"
I repeatedly think of it and the longer it took me to rub the paint off, it downs on me that I am, a killer.
I deserved it.
YOU ARE READING
Dear Bully
Krótkie Opowiadania"He didn't try to kill my demons, he runs with them."
