So now I sit at home, on my computer. It's probably about...maybe, eight? The sun has set, and weirdly enough, I've come to no answers. You probably want to laugh at me, right? I mean, it's pretty easy to do so. She's just a girl, there's nothing wrong. Yet, my neighbors all seem to think she's bad, even if they do not see her. I've known these people my whole life, and yet they are not the type to make predisposed judgments of a person they have never seen before. Should I trust them? Or should I make my own decisions?

I usually have a strong "third eye", if that makes sense, about people. I'm fairly good at discerning troublemakers from the teacher's pets, you know? I know for a fact the girl means well, in fact, just being near her brings me immense comfort. I still remember the sad look in her eyes when she ran, and I want to know why. The words she told me too, are also what I remember, and that terrible feeling in my lungs, that almost prevented me from speaking out to her...

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

It's almost as if the world does not want me to acknowledge this girl, to learn her story.

I told you earlier that this girl was a dear friend of mine, but that was after the wild ride she took me on; don't worry, I'll get to that part eventually.

In a world of denial, I will go to the truth, and the only one who seems to know anything is the girl. Good night, and farewell.