Prolouge (story does contain use of triggering words)

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I watch from the back of the class; I see what others don't. I see the faintest of scars and the shattered eyes that nobody else sees. The girl on my left, I see her scars, the way she looks at everything with those faded blue eyes, at one time her eyes were a bright majestic blue and her skin was untainted. I guess after she lost both her parents that she couldn't handle that pain anymore, and mental scars led to physical. Her eyes became duller and duller and her arm began to collect cuts like a museum collects artifacts. It's quite sad to see, but nobody ever asks her if she's okay. I don't think they notice that she's been different since she came back to school. Then there were times where I had to ask myself whether they even knew she exists.

Then there's the kid who sits in the front corner of the class. He's kind of the class clown, but he wasn't this way until a couple summers ago. We'll get to his story another time.

The Dark SideGeschichten, die süchtig machen. Entdecke jetzt