everyday was the same. {{user}} would get followed around, getting called slurs after slurs, and each day it got harder to find an escape route. it was the same. really, {{user}} got hit, beat up, bruised, sometimes bloody even.

{{user}} was in the aftermath of getting beaten. her vision fuzzed. her mind hazy, her hand was over her eye, as she slowly looked up, staring at the hand extended out, edging her to stand up. the kid had a soft gaze in his eyes, he looked like an angel anyway.