This story is of a girl, she's quiet by choice, she won't answer unless you want the full story...


2. You're Worthless

I walk with the gait of a mad person out of the therapists office, and leaving from the 'Swifton Helping Co' building. If you hadn't known what I had just been through you'd think I was a mad woman with ninety million and three quarters of cats at home. 
"What's up, Beenie?" Some boy asked, holding a can of energy juice that read clearly across the front in demonic writing 'Monster' I hadn't had time to learn this boy's name I simply knew him as a threat, I remember his face from long ago when I had played 'What happens when a staple goes through you're hand' with him, I remember his screams in my mind like it was yesterday. It was only ten years ago when I was around six years of age. The name was a nick-name that was implied to be hurtful but after four years of that I had grown used to it. After all I was considerably different from the children around my class that were undoubtedly still running childishly with the right-handed scissors. 
I did use long words in my speech, some of the people don't understand what I'm saying, but that's mostly just the... in fact no, it's not the mostly of anyone, everyone doesn't understand my speech. Sometimes it's irritating explaining what pneumonoultramicrocroscopicsilicovolanoconiosis actually means and it not however from the land of gibberish. I really don't understand where people get odd ideas that I'm weird or retarded, I'll have them know I'm superior so most the teachers, having to correct them on the incorrect theories that they so dumbly spread to my class mates. Sometimes I feel like calling out something like.
"There is enough idiots in the world already, just step down and let me explain the chemical compound of toluene, for gods sake!" of coarse I don't say something stupid like that, I'm really not that dim witted to even think of such monstrous ideas!
I finally arrive at my house, it was broken down, roof dilapidated  and falling ungracefully over and entered in to my home to see my mothers smoking habit's filling the dining room.
"Home, mother" I say laying my bad gently on the ground to not disturb anyone sleeping upstairs. 
"Do you know why I named you Benzene, my dear" My mother groggily replied. She looked unhappy, with her face sagged over like one of those common pug dogs.
"Not at all" I answer quickly, knowing full well but allowing to explain so she felt better.
"Because benzene is worthless, just like you... worthless" She said, alcohol slurring her speech patterns. I aware before hand but I attempted my best to look shocked and upset. She was always looking for someone to make fun of when she was angry. Some times she'd beat me, but I'd be lucky to know this wasn't one of those days.

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