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About this sample
About this sample
Words: 389 |
Page: 1|
2 min read
Published: Mar 28, 2019
Words: 389|Page: 1|2 min read
Published: Mar 28, 2019
It was once again I ran out of the school boundary, tears were dripping down my cheeks and I ran to my mother’s car and jumped in without looking sideways. The sun was settling at that time giving the sky an ugly orange and gray hue. As mum was opening the front door of the house, the jingling sound of the keys were like high oblique clanking noises, similar to thousands of kids screaming, virtually driving me insane. I throbbed my head violently. When the door opened I threw my bag pack on floor and ran to my room. With the shutting of the door, all the voices were gone and the room was filled with silence.
I went to the window beside my bed and started looking at the sky and finally I screamed at the top of my lungs, my eyes were closed , I screamed until all of my anger was expelled out of my body. Finally I stopped, as I was breathing heavily because my lungs were exhausted. Then I fell on my bed and started crying.
Gradually, excruciatingly, pictures of what had occurred previously in school initiated making way into my cognizance. The cheerleaders chuckled as I strode past their desks with my tray of meal. They were chuckling on my deficiency of social prominence, laughing at the point that I didn’t had any friends. In session, the instructor told me that I was failing and there is no hope of a bright future for me. The rougher, bigger, fouler, burlier lassies cornered me in the institute’s field and cussed and fought with me so that they could feel good. I tried to punch them but in an effort to escape, but they caught me and beat me up. The school therapist with the fake British inflection tried to call me to her workplace to have a talk, but I had slapped her and ran out of the school.
The incident had gone on for many days, and I started to have morbid thoughts. It would be much better, I thought, I would be at liberty from this trauma, I could make this all stop and just be free from this life. What is a good way to die, I continued thinking, an act in which people would feel sorry that they had not treated me better?
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