August 21st
Dry your eyes
•••••••
It was hard.
School.
It used to be easy. It used to be almost fun.
But not boarding school.
School had sucked every single second since being at this new place.
And he hated it.
He hated being targeted every time he walked down the corridor.
Beaten up at any chance the other kids could get.
He was bullied something terrible, and he hated every second of every day.
He sat there in his room, alone, laying on his bed and curled into a ball.
Dry your eyes Edmund. Crying isn't going to do anything.
He glared at the wall in front of him, wiping viciously at his eyes.
He hated this, he hated this, he hated this.
••••••••••
