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Okay, first of all. I've been thinking about this for quite awhile and i've decided to confront the problem- well, ask people the 'question'.

I just want all of you to think, how hard is it to open up?

Just... sit there and think.

Why is it hard to tell someone how you feel/ your secrets?

I'm coming clean, for this part of this thingie-ma-bob, I find it uncontrollably hard to say the truth of how I feel. Because, honestly... I can't feel anything. I'm just numb. 

Sure, the bullying for 'now' has finished, but that's because i'm on holidays. But... honestly, i'm just... fucking done. Really, i'm sick of the people at my school, I hate them. If someone honestly now pushes me- or even cut the line to the fucking bus, I will say something.

It will be either, "Get behind me" or, "THIS IS WHY I HATE PEOPLE" i've said that quite a few times at school loudly, causing people to look at me in shock (probably because I don't talk to any of them), that and no one really say's anything when someone's in the 'wrong'.

There's apart of me, through my actions I have decided that is broken- well that's a lie. I know i'm broken. So many places, so many thing's are. 

I don't think people understand how I feel, I know  my friend's don't, i've told two people about it, one has left me, ditching me for my ex-friend's and the second one seems to notice me have an anxiety attack.

Sure, she only noticed one. But who didn't?

Someone stole my wallet, my new iPod I spent month's working for, and my book of sanity (a book where I write my stories and idea's in). I found my wallet empty on the ground, I got my iPod back (AFTER A TEACHER ASKED PEOPLE ABOUT IT, and they said 'Insert name' had it and she then literally screamed at them until they handed it over), and then I found my book on the bathroom ground.

It had thing's written all over it, pages ripped out and it even had burn mark's over it.

Since when in society is this even acceptable? I should be able to get justice, but no. Apparently, my own property is in my 'care'. NO, it wasn't, the teacher's lock our bag's up in the change rooms for 'safety'. So, I guess it's my fault for letting myself trust and respect 'the system' when other's don't.

THAT, and THEY WENT INTO MY FUCKING BAG. NO. THEY PICKED MY BAG, OUT OF EVERYONE'S, AND DECIDED THEY COULD TAKE MY STUFF.

Of course 'I shouldn't take it to heart. It could have been anyone's' then why wasn't it someone else's, or numerous people?

Why did they go through my book, writing 'FAT BITCH' 'IDIOT' "WHORE' 'NERD' 'FREAK OF NATURE' through it?

Why did they spend time, writing on each page to make sure my work is unreadable, and even burn it?

Why did they graffiti immature thing's on my little drawings in there?

Why would they do that to me?

Because i'm me. I'm Caitlin. That's why.

My parent's have started to pick up on me not eating either, my mum asked me about it and I say the same thing over and over again, "I'm just not hungry" 

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