Why I Hide

May was just an ordinary girl to everyone else around her.
No one realized the pain she suffered, the one she kept inside.
Her friends were oblivious to her and used her as an excuse of
being cool, of having friends. They made fun of her and made rumors behind
her back. Her parents, if you want to call them that, neglected her
and used her as an outlet of their rage as they fought each other.
Abused and bullied, May just wants to be normal.

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3. The Bus

As soon as I got home, I sighed and put my backpack down. Today was just like any other day.

First, I had been yelled at for waking up late and shoved out the door- literally. When the bus stopped, the driver saw me and his eyes went wide.

He sped up-past the speed limit and drove passed me. I walked to school, as I had learned running not only got me stopped by people in dark alleys, but also was useless, as I never made it to school ontime, no matter how much I sprinted.

By the time I got to school, I had tripped through the door and the late bell rang.

"Late!" the hall monitor yelled and gave me a smug look giving me a late pass marked "Unexcused".

After I opened my locker, all my books fell out on top of me. I gathered random textbooks and notebooks and just prayed that they were the right ones for my first three classes.

When I walked into the classroom my teacher would mutter, "Late again, Mrs.May?" he asked rhetorically, already knowing the answer to my tiny-voiced "Yes..." along with a sigh.

After my first three classes dragged by, I never made it to lunch. The farthest I ever made it to was my locker. Then, after everyone disappeared to lunch, my favorite bullies came by-The Throwers. I know its lame, but usually I can't think of a cool name before one of them throws me against the lockers and get this- they ask me for lunch money. I know its shocking.. we're in high school, yet the seniors are always looking for cash to take their cheesy girlfriends to cheesy places.

They continued to throw me against the wall and demand for money until I either pass out or endure so much pain that I confess that I don't have money.

Remember, I don't talk to people. Especially not a bunch of goons like the Throwers.

Later on, a member of the Throwers (the one who called me Mayo previously) just came over and threw me around for the fun of it....

When I got on the bus, I knew I should've looked around first.

The bus was full of Thrower members.

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