Maybe they won't notice me. I've done my best to stay hidden. "Out of sight, out of mind," isn't that what they say?
Last week was bad; they just couldn't get along with each other and I happened to be there. They took their frustrations out on me.
I won't make that mistake again; the hitting, the insults, the smell of anger, blood and fear.
It's hard not to cry. I know they love it when I break; the sense of power they receive.
Who knew seventh grade girls could be so mean?