Prologue

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You've gotten use to it over time but every now and then it comes back to you like a knife stabbing you in the heart.

You are use to being an outcast.

You were never popular. You only hung out with that group because there were no other options. Every time they would say "Come here!" followed by everyone's name except yours it was like a twist of a knife.

You are use to being an outcast.

You left that group, well they kinda kicked you out by not including you in anything. You become invisible or at least you wish you were as bullies torment you for all of the school day.

You are use to being an outcast.

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