Silent.

"Why are you doing this?" He asked, kneeling down. I looked up in fright. He can't see me, no one can. I'm doing everyone a favour by hiding away. I'll just end up hurting people. I can't do that no more, not after last time.

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1. Whispers.

 

All I could hear was whispers surrounding me. They were coming from every corner. Each an everyone were judging someone. The whisperers had a new target every week. And this time it was my turn to suffer. I closed my eyes as I tried to block out all the mean things they were saying. This was just a daily routine to them, they didn't know how much pain they were actually causing. They thought it was all a harmless joke.

I used to, too.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

 

  "Look at her hair!" I cackled to my bestfriend, Megan. She sniggered and pointed to the girl, directing everyone in the room's attention to her.

 "It's hideous," Megan exclaimed, rather loudly too. By now our victum was in tears. But back then we were too foolish and young to care about that. Society was, and still is, a joke.

 "One hair shampoo does she use? La manouer!" Our other friends had now joined in with our 'joke', laughing like a bunch of monkeys. I just wished I could have yelled 'stop' right there and then, but reputation was all that had mattered to me.

 "We should definetly write a joke book when we're older," Matthew smirked, slinking an arm around my waist. I rolled my eyes and pushed him away, making him trip a young girl over. But instead of doing to polite thing I should of done and help her up, I helped my friends kick her books around.

 "Stop," The girl weakly begged, no louder than a whisper. Everyone focused on her, narrowing their eyes. I immediately felt sorry for her and wondered, did anyone else think this was stupid?

 "Why, what you going to do about it?" I smirked. The girl trembled on the spot.

 "Tell my mum," She stated, but it came out more like a question. We all errupted in to fits of giggles as the girl sat there, staring at her untied shoelace.

 "Whatever," I smirked, "We'll leave mommy's girl alone, for now." And we all scurried off, high-fiving each other and jumping in joy. Well, everyone but me.

 

Another tally, crossed off the list. Why do I cause all of this pain? Is it because of how my family treats me? Do I thrive off seeing others in pain? No, so why do I do this?

 

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