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Quiet Girl
I hate them.
 
 I seethe with anger and frustration. I want to slap them all. They would look at me, shuddering at the depth of fire burning in my eyes. I would snarl and they would know how stupid they are in all their games.
 
 Hate is such a hellish word.
 
 Why would I even declare such and awful thing?
  
 I despise them.
 
 Inside me, my stomach churns with desire. Desire to rip their costumes off to burn in effigy. I would make them watch naked, exposed. How beautiful and strong would they be then?
 
 Torture is so cruel.
 
 How could I even dream up such an awful thing?
 
 I tire of them.
 
 "Shenanigans." Bah. What a stupid word. I will make my own stupid word so I can make my own clique and exclude them. They will be jealous of my wonderful world that they cannot be a part of.
 
 Revenge is so juvenile.
 
 Why would I wish such and awful thing?
 
 I watch them.
 
 Since I cannot outrage at them, I cannot torture them, and I cannot make them my friends, I will sit here alone and be patient. I will be quiet and good and kind.
  
 "The quiet girl is always so pleasant."
 
 If only they knew.

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