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Lonered

Lonered

By sparkthedark

Sitting in the middle of the row in maths, I should be the one in the middle of every conversation. But I'm not. It's like the two sides have split in half and have refused to even talk to me. Those that I thought were friends were only there when they needed someone to lean on. I have been used. It is simple. All my life. NOTHING but used. I hear their voices and their seemingly dull conversations, the girl that claimed that she hadn't changed, oh how i wish i could could just slap her in the face. I grow tired of nagging and calling out their names, asking them a question when they are obviosly focused on something else. Their body languae displays it all., their belongings are arranged in a way that is deflected away from me. Honestly, I cannot help but rage. I am not sad. I'm just wondering whether or not I made the right friends. So far, the answer to that question would be no. And so, I have written this story in math class, with no disruptions at all. None.

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About The Author
sparkthedark
sparkthedark
About This Story
Audience:
12+
Posted:
25 Aug, 2011
Type:
Sad
Words:
187
Favorites:
0
Views:
1,822

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