:D

Three.

“We won’t get caught,” she sagte for the thousandth time, a smile dancing on her lips. “Stop being such a goody-goody.”

“Shut up. I’m a damn good kid,” I said. “I haven’t gotten in trouble at this school yet, and I'd like to keep it that way.”

“We won’t get in trouble. I know what I’m doing. Du can trust me.”

“Trust isn’t the issue. The aides are.”

“Miranda.” She looked at me. “We. Will. Not. Get. Caught.”

“Yes we will.”

“No we won’t. Just come on.”

I paused. “Do Du think they have erdbeere milkshakes?”

“We’d have to go there to...

Two.

I don’t remember how old I was when he first hit me. Maybe six, seven, eight. I don’t remember what I’d done to provoke him. I don’t even see this memory from the first person point of view. I see it like I’m a moviegoer, watching the scene unfold with horrorstruck eyes, like I’m an intruder in someone else’s life.

His face is twisted in anger, his lip curled up in disgust at me. Spit flies from his mouth as he yells, waving his hands all over the place. I don’t remember what he was saying. The movie is a silent one.

But his mouth is moving and he’s yelling. And yelling....

I figure, this is a spot about me, right? So I should probably tell Du a bit about myself. Except, I’m not a Fan of straight up facts. I’m not going to sit here and bore Du Von telling Du what the weather was like the Tag I was born. So I think I’m gonna share a bit of myself with Du in story form. Just little bits of memories I have. They won’t be in order and they won’t always be important. But all these memories have made me who I am. Read them oder don’t, care oder not, here we go.

One.

“I want that one.”

“The gray one sleeping in the corner?”

“No, the one Weiter to him.”...

I was saved. I really was. But the weirdest thing about it, was that I was saved Von the internet. Not only that, butI think I might be using Mehr time here, than anywhere else. Yeah, I'm like any other teen who thinks schools shit, homeworks worse and people are stupid. No, Human kind is stupid, and yeah, life sucks too. So I choose a easier pattern, one where I can be me, and still be liked. One where people wouldn't judge me, wouldn't know me. A pattern where I can stay mysterious, and unknown, and liked. Internet.

I'm alive, but at the same time I was not. It's quite interesting, it's a...