I cried. I cried because every word they had said was a piece of me ripped off. I cried because I believed them and in all those flaws. I cried because their insults were needles in my skin. I cried because it hurt.
My favorite thing about summer? The evenings. When the sky isn't dark yet, but it's on the edge. The sun relaxes, and let's a warm breeze take over. No goosebumps, no sweat. The weather is perfect, as that of in a dream world. That's my favorite time.
What is inside a black hole?
It’s nearly Christmas. Again. Everyone around me, in school mainly, has been distributing presents in the spirit of gift-giving. I’ve wondered why I didn’t prepare anything to gift my friends and teachers, and I’ve excused myself by simply answering to myself, and anyone who cared to listen, “We don’t celebrate Christmas.” [...]