I wanted to blame the jackass at the ATM for bringing this shit storm down upon my head. If he hadnâ€™t tried to rob us all, the girl he shot would still be alive and I wouldnâ€™t feel so miserable.
Then again she might still be alive if I hadnâ€™t reacted like the frightened little boy I had been and maybe still was. If Georgie hadnâ€™t spent years tormenting me, picking, poking and prodding me, she might still be walking.
Maybe if I would have learned how to deal with the bullying I could have stopped myself from just reacting.
Goddamn Georgie, he was dead too. Gone for years and still I could hear him mocking me, feel his presence.
They say sometimes the absence of someone is palpable. The only thing palpable about Georgieâ€™s presence was that even in death he still walked alongside me.
She was dead because Georgie had proven to me that I was weak andÂ lacking in value and worth. Really it was my fault.
The first time Georgie beat me I was scared. I didnâ€™t defend myself. I didnâ€™t try to, I just let him kick and punch me. And when he stopped I looked at him through teary eyes, not sure what to expect. He gave me a handkerchief and stuck out a hand to help me up.
I was wiping the blood off of my face when he hit me again. I didnâ€™t see it coming and when I came to I was lying…
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