Chapter 8: Unanswered Questions

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3rd POV

Kate threw all her thoughts on paper. She wrote drastically yet at the same time tried to incorporate precise vocabulary because after all this is English Language Arts class.

Kate's POV

I'm terrified. You know I don't even know why I'm terrified. Me and Emaline are dating in secret. But I dont care. I like her. But it's weird. I mean there are straight couples everywhere and like our relationship isn't. But I mean why do people who are the same sex dating matter so much? It shouldn't really matter; It should just be equaled to straight couples. Then if so why do I feel like this? Why am I terrified of people finding out? It's no more or less than a straight couple. I flickered my pencil back and forth until it dropped on the ground. The frustration of this is too damn real. I don't want to write my thoughts out on this journal because what if someone reads them? Again I begin to flicker my number 2 pencil. I can't; I need to write this down. I continuously erased a bunch of words I wrote until my pencil eraser was too short to shed/erase. I'm going to try to make this as real as possible but not giving to much information in case someone reads it.

September  4, 1996

I am currently dating a beautiful blonde. They are the most beautiful, wonderful, amazing person I've ever met and I am glad to be with them. Though, there are back draws. I have a lemon-bitter feeling in my gut. My gut screams "but you can't!" with full blown screaming. I don't understand. Why is something so terrible about something so beautiful? Is it so wrong of me for being happy? Then again it's torture. In philosophy class we learned this philosophy in which something we think is the best thing ever is as well as the worst thing ever. I believe this blonde is that philosophy. I have so many questions urging to be answered yet I don't know how to seek for them. This year I'm aiming for straight a's as well as answers. I wish the best for myself in the future.

Sincerely, 

Kate

I was done for today's assignment. I packed my journal in my backpack. I see that I was the last one finished. This is weird because I only wrote a couple. Everyone seems to be glaring at me weirdly. Like how people would pretend to look at a poster but in reality they're trying to look at you through their preferential vision. Emaline was doing the same too but she didn't bother to hide it. Why the hell were they looking at me? What did I do? Was it clear what I was writing?



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