twenty one: h y s t e r i c a l .

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the minute i see sheila surrounded by other actors,

                            i run towards the washroom, unable to control the tears, clenching my fingers in a tight fist.

                            i try to control the h y s t e r i c a l sobs. 

                            i trip over my shoelaces many a times but continue towards the room that could comfort me in the confinements of its tangy embrace.

                            i hated sheila so, so much.

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