We Are the Lost, the Sick and Unspoken

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At school on Monday everywhere I walked people would whisper and point at me.  I acted like I didn't notice, or at least I acted like I didn't care.

Then I got to lunch.  When I got in the door of the counseling office Mitzi nearly pounced on me.

"Zane! Everyone's talking about you!"  she said before smacking herself in the face.  "Of course, you probably knew that.  I just wanted you to know that they were talking about how you're a foster kid and how you live with that Karen bitch and how you cut and stuff."  

Same Mitzi, talking a million miles an hour.  Surprisingly I understood every word she said.  I smiled when she called Karen a bitch.  That I didn't mind.  But why would people at school even care about my life?  There are a lot of kids in my position.

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