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Creative Writing: Freak

Decent Essays
A girl walks to school, her head low, shoulders hunched. Her face is a mask, completely void of any emotion. She doesn't want to go to school, but her home isn’t exactly any more pleasant a place to be.
Too soon, she's in the school halls, fighting past the stampede of students to get to her locker. She makes sure her mask never slips. She can already hear them. The whispers that should be reserved for the pits of hell. 'Freak', some whispered, 'Mental' others murmured, little sidelong glances and snickers to their friends. No one saw the pain they caused, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t there, hiding beneath her skin. It was a coiled snake wound tight around her heart, black as sin and cold as death.
Finally reaching her locker, she leaned
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She didn't really need to, she could have slammed it and no one would have heard it above the loud, angry arguing coming from the other room. She walked to her bedroom, and smile almost crept its way to her lips. Almost. After tomorrow, nothing would matter anymore. She didn't do her homework, why bother? She simply finished up her project, and went to bed early, ear buds in her ears to block the sounds.
Morning came, and brought with it yet another day of school. But she wasn't the same this morning. She emptied her backpack of everything unimportant, books, homework, pencils. Her head was up as she walked to school, her back straight, the project, though heavy in her backpack, lightened her step. 'It's almost over'. The thought repeated itself over and over again, like waves against a beach, soft and steady, but slowly getting stronger and stronger. ‘It’s almost over, finally, it’s finally almost over’...
At 10:38 AM, a bomb went off in the bathroom directly in the middle of the second story of the school. Some were dead, others dying, and many were injured and in need of hospitalization. The entire second floor was caving in, taking the roof with it, the first floor on the verge of collapse. As she was dragged into the armored van, surely on her way to an insane asylum, the girl smiled. Her first genuine smile in years. The whispers had
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