Prolouge

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As days go on I feel the same.

Everyday is like another cloud passing by,

nothing changes,

everyday is the same.

I feel like a robot programmed to do one thing:

breathe.

These are the words that keep me up at night:

"What am I living for

I have always been seen as this perfect girl.

That girl who gets good grades,

That girl who never gets in trouble,

I seem perfect, right?                                                         

Well don't make assumptions,                                  

nobody's perfect.                            

And that word definitely doesn't go for me.

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