Chapter 18

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The staring is pressurized.

I'm trying to breathe this Monday morning,

But I think I am about to pass out.

I should have asked my mother to move.


The walk is excruciating as I skirt around corners and— 

Squeeze between people with quick apologies.

I hear the whispers.

They are everywhere.


At lunch, the rift is palpable.

I can taste the bitterness from here.

If I can catch a breath—

A real breath, I might make it through today.


My heart aches.

I feel like a walking ghost.

There are so many lies,

I don't know which way is up.


There is a severe chance I am broken.

Broken—

Because I don't think I chose correctly.

I don't think I should have chosen at all. 

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