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School Violence I started writing this essay originally with a different view in mind. But when I went back to read it, it simply wasn’t what I wanted to say. My mother suggested I wait a few days and come back to it but I was itching too much to get this off my chest. I became restless and started surfing the web and went to my favorite authors website. Her name is SilverRaven Wolf (www.silverravenwolf.com) and read her article about when she was in Jr. High. That’s when I realized the difference, hers had emotion while mine was simply fact. So here’s my new version, and I hope you can all understand and realate... First day of school, in a new school, at thirteen. I walk in self-consciously with my pentacle around my neck and new pair of sneakers on my feet. I look around the classroom nervously, noticing a few odd glances from some students. I shrug it off as just me being “the new kid.” Few days pass, and I start to get the hang of things, even though I still can’t get that silly locker to open. That’s when it starts, the whispers in the back of the room, the way people would walk away when I approached, the fear in peoples eyes... I couldn’t figure out from what though. I did make best friends with one girl who really didn’t mind my opinions and we had (and still have) wonderful conversations. After two weeks of dealing with this, I heard one of the cheerleaders behind me whisper loudly “look at the devil-worshiping bitch... so full of herself... thinks she can come here with that shit... wearing that star in the open like that...” Unfortunately I didn’t have any support, I couldn’t take it. The stress of being new, missing friends and family, and now this, I simply rose and ran.
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