Outcast

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I'm Veronica.

I sit alone at my lunch table. I walk home alone. I was by myself. I was an outcast. My parents never talk to me. They're always on business trips. 

I sometimes cry myself to sleep at night. Why did I drive everyone away from me? The last time I talked to someone could've been days ago. It could've been weeks. I've stopped keeping track. No one cares. No one notices. My social life came crashing down a few years ago. I don't mind though. If your best friend believed a rumor about you then decided they're going to torture you about it for the rest of you sane life, Then they're not you friend. She embarrasses me in front of the whole school now. Taunting me. 

So I now sit here, with a gun in hand. Life sucks. Nobody is forcing me to live it. Hopefully the afterlife is better. It has to be better. Nothing is worse than this. Single tears rolled down my cheeks. My pale cheeks. I started to lift it to my head. I was ready. I was so close to a happier life. An afterlife. I willed myself to pull the trigger. 

"On three..." I whispered to myself, my voice crackling under pressure. 

One......I felt my heart start to beat faster. I thought of all the outcomes. Two...I squinted my light blue eyes shut. My black and purple fingernails were digging into the skin on my knee. 3.... 

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