Extra #3

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November 2008, 13:50 PM

School, as always, ran normally.

I was used to older people staring at me as if I was a serial killer. I was used to my classmates throwing me a side glance, or that stupid, pity look while in the hallway. I was getting used to being the main topic of gossip for those groups of girls. I was used to being the center of attention.

I just walked past them without looking at them, and there were no troubles.

Even though I'm numb to all of those things, I still don't like it.

I hated the way their eyes stared upon me, especially at that scar I had received from weeks ago. It had been closed up with an eyepatch, but instead of being avoided, it had gotten a lot worse.

I used to love to be the center of attention, but now, I despised it. It was following me everywhere I went, even during classes.

I hated being pitied by the others. It made me feel like I was the saddest person to ever live.

I hated crowded places. That's where everything becomes severe.

I hated it when people approached me and said their so-called apology all over again. Even the teachers were doing it.

I hated it...

Why can't I just be left alone?!

Stop giving me all of the nonsense stares!!!

I wanted to scream in front of them.

I wanted to tell them to leave me the hell alone.

But I know... it will just get me into more serious problems that I don't even want to break through...

I gripped my bag's straps so tightly, if it wasn't well made, it will break apart. I faced the ground, trying to avoid myself from catching someone's gaze. Lynn and Seb were in different class, so I was all alone, but this was a perfect time to spend some time in private. I walked faster than usual, and slithered into the toilet.

Thankfully no one was there.

I slumped my bag onto the edge of the wall, and looked over to the mirror.

I looked horrible, especially with that eyepatch the doctor put on me. She told me not to take it off in any circumstances, besides bathing and sleeping.

As if.

At some time I would remove it, exposing the wound. It had made me really uncomfortable and itchy, so I did it. I would stare at the mess in the mirror and ended up freaking out. Flashes of that scene will appear right in front of my eyes, and I will always shriek in terror.

Not eyes... eye. I reminded myself.

I walked over to the sink and turned the tap on, and began to wash my hands. One by one, I cleaned my fingers off the black, blue and white stain that I had received from the recent art class. The water was stone cold, but it relieved me for some reason.

It briefly refreshed my entire thoughts.

As I switched the tap off, I glanced up, looking at a simple poster of a cartoon girl with brown pigtails doing the same thing as I did. She was wearing a yellow sweater with diamonds arranged in a pattern, adorned with an abstract flower, and an orange skirt. There, above her, there were words, written in a colourful, childish manner.

Wash your hands properly!

Somehow, the drawing attracted me, but only temporarily.

After drying my hands up, I grabbed my bag and went back to hellhole. Some would look back at me, and some continued with their talk, but they still glanced at me. Just go back to your business!

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