I don't really care anymore. I don't really care about it either. All the words they say, things they do. Having half the people at that school bully me. Throw tacks at me in class. Stab me with stuff at lunch. Spit on me, push me against the lockers. Called names, for what I am. Blame me for things I don't do. They mark my face and hands, then Luke assumes and beats me for letting others touch me. But I don't care. I forgot to wear a tank top under my shirt. On gym. I tried not to think about it, up until I had to change my shirt. Then the rumors spread. Everyone saw them, now it's all worse. But I shouldn't care. They asked why I wear jeans and a long sleeved shirt all year, that's the answer.
YOU ARE READING
The secret
RandomIf you fall, fall into my arms. Come and fall, break down your walls and tell me you love me one time.
