She hated it. The constant humiliation that occured in her everyday life. Other children in her tenth grade class constantly picked on her, shoved her around. She was sick of it, trying to make an effort to get people to give her a chance. She deserved a chance, didn’t she?

She constantly daydreamed, writing what happened in them down to the smallest detail. She could easily be a writer or artist if she wanted to be. Her mother insisted that the problem would blow over, but it never did. It didn’t end until she was visiting her father at work one day and a plane hit the building he worked in.

The children from her school regreted ever making fun of her after that day. They wished they had been friends with her, been a nicer person. She had brilliant purple eyes that most kids were jealous of and voluminous dark brown hair. She made the school a better place and the students would never forget her. She was and amazing, simple person. Nice to everyone, whether they hated her or not.

Her name was Maggie X.

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