Words Kill

Words Kill

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing48m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Tue, May 7, 2019
My name is Kylie Penazola and I'm 18 years old. I was just your average high school with a lot of friends actually. I was what u would call "one of the popular ones" that is until about a year or two ago. I'm dead and more and likely forgotten now and ur about to find out why. Warning: This story contains Strong Language Rape Bullying Self-harm You have been warned
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Hello. I’m Cassidy. I’m 16 years old, and I am helpless. I’m weak, defenseless and not to mention unassuming. I am utterly boring and uninteresting. I wouldn’t be surprised if God himself overlooked me. Maybe that’s why my life sucks so much. My face is dull and pale, and my hair is mousy brown. My eyes are black and my fingers are long and stringy. Once in junior high, a teacher likened me to ghost. I had wanted to tell her, “Yes. I remind myself of a ghost sometimes too.” But I didn’t say anything in return. I have one friend and even she doesn’t like me for me; only for the shiny new car my step dad bought me. Boys don’t notice me. And when they do it’s only to pick out my flaws and display them to everyone around. All in all, I am a sad and pathetic specimen of a human being. Why am I writing this? Because on June 3rd, 2011, at 12:31 am, I died.

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