I smiled slightly as my friend May chatted with me. I didn't understand why such a pretty girl wanted to be with a suckish person like me. To be honest, I accepted why many people didn't like me. I didn't really like me either. I cried. A lot. I try to hide it, but it doesn't always work out. I'm don't want to die, or anything. I just wish I maybe could have another chance, to turn things around. There isn't much to do about it now, I guess.
I wandered my gaze around, at people running in and out of doors, in such a hurry. I spy March striding over to us, and she and May begin to talk excessively. I didn't get why people needed to speak. That why, no one could get hurt as much. Emotionally, at least. Many people called March, May, and me the Spring gang. It sometimes made me happy, to think I had some friends to hang out with. But other times, it made me cry. To think only two wanted to be friends with me.
With my flat, grayish blue hair, and blue eyes, everyone thought I was a freak. My looks weren't what drove people away, anyways. It was the crying. I'm crying even now. Not big, sloppy tears, but small droplets that run down my cheeks. I'm always tearing up, and it isn't because I'm an "emotional person." I don't know why I'm always crying, but it's just part of who I am, I suppose.
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