It’s been a month since it last found me… It found me hiding in the corner of my closet. I think it’s finally gone but I always assume that… And I’m always wrong. It’s constantly searching, waiting, for me to reach my lowest. And I want it to find me. I walk home from school feeling depressed and pathetic. I found out that I had failed four of my classes. I might have to be held back a year. All my friends have left me because I don’t do what they do. But they don’t know about… it… I get home and my parents are still fighting. I don’t know what it’s about; I stopped caring long ago. My arm starts to itch…
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