Carefree they call me, as I stumble through the hordes of people walking past, but my parents look on in anguish, wishing I wasn't the way I am. How little they know how much my life torments me, the living hell they've created, it's all just a front you see, I'm not carefree, I live in fear of what comes next, what is in that next second on the clock, the clock I wish would stand still, just for a second.

The End

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