I was always the type of girl that was overlooked unless someone needed a target to make fun of. As a kid, you develop a sense for recognizing cruel intentions. By the time I was sixteen, I could laugh off any insult thrown at me by giving the impression that it didn’t sting because I did so in the nick of time. I knew how to tune out the suffocating cloak of pity from the school faculty and fool myself into believing that my loneliness was a matter of choice and not necessity. But then Violet appeared in the picture....
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