I can’t love you. "I didn't mean to give offence," replied Sheppard, sulkily. ’ ‘You didn’t care. You can do anything you please. She cut a deep gash into her own arm with a steel screw, loosing drops of her own blood onto the floorboards. Your life is like a funeral March. When the word “FREAK” appeared scratched in the persimmon colored paint on her locker, she knew that in some fragile young woman’s mind a war had escalated from imaginary to physical. " This frankness rather subdued Spurlock.
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