Alone

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"Whatcha doing Nat? Hoping Taylor Swift will come and save you? Never gonna happen. Even if she did come, you're the last one she'd pick," says Chrissy, and I stand stiffly in front of her. "Yeah, not everyone has a happy ending," adds Hallie. "I-I don't need this," I say and walk sadly to my room. I lock the door and collapse on my bed. I begin to sob, and soon I can't control it. It all comes out. I pick up my guitar and strum a few chords. I don't need to play a song to feel better. Just a few notes can lighten my mood.

"Aww...little Natalie is gonna be a pop star!" mocks Chrissy from outside my door. I hear something jiggling the lock and my door swings open. Chrissy walks in and holds up a bobby pin. She puts it back into her "perfect" hair. "Alright, what do we have here?" she says. "Hmm, oh yes!" she exclaims. She stomps over to me and plucks the guitar from my limp hands. She braces her foot against the fingerboard and I brace myself. I hear a snap and Chrissy and her friends laughing. I feel salty tears drip down my face.

"Outcasts....don't deserve to be happy," sneers Chrissy and stalks away. I lock my door and sob. Why me? Why was I the one abandoned on the front step of the orphanage? Why aren't I happy? Why am I bullied? I've always been nice to everyone. Maybe nice gets you nowhere....Chrissy told me that once.

I kneel by my guitar and examine the broken neck. It isn't that bad actually, all it needs is some super glue. I walk down to the kitchen. "Mrs. Woodly, do you have any super glue?" I ask. "Of course, sweetie!" Mrs. Woodly is the old cook, and the only person here nice to me. I thank her and shove the super glue into my pocket and walk to my room with nothing more from Chrissy except mumbles insults as I walk by.

I smear the glue across the guitar and stick the two ends together. it should be dry by tomorrow. I grin and bring back the glue.

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