It's only been around half a year but the awful consuming feelings I felt in that place are already distant. Back when all I really felt in my bubble of isolation was seething, festering rage. I was angry at my situation, at my uncaring and oblivious torturer. I was frustrated with the way I had to live. I felt it was unfair, school was only a reminder of how kids had better and normal lives.
I found school a place to blame my misery, along with the students and teachers there. Eventually I went from wanting to escape the prison I could call school to wanting to graduate already so I could just leave my home and never come back.
My hatred of him has turned to apathy. I certainly wouldn't care if he died, as he so claims he is. I'm never turning back. Besides, he never tried to change and he certainly isn't going to now. Not that I would forgive him. I hope I never hear from him again.
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