Rae

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I was loved there, I was special, I was accepted, I was cheered on: everyone there wanted only the best for me. It gave me no preparation, no sense of what was waiting for me when I eventually went back to school, where people would call me a spaz, a moron, a joey, would demand to know what was wrong with me or what they would catch from me.
I Am, I Am, I Am: Seventeen Brushes with Death
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