Excerpt: Undetermined.

The spark that pushes someone to thrive outside of that box of hell, is pure, unaltered fury. The fear begins to manifest into anger. The pain manifests into tolerance and determination to never let anyone see you cry, ever again, even when the skin splits and bleeds from the paddle. The paddle now turns cold; it's no longer hot with hate and disappointment. What feels like rain droplets on the arm smear orange as they wipe the chill from the skin. This is what Jesus must have felt like, except he didn't have to hide the wince on his face when he sits down in class tomorrow. I bet Jesus never had to pad his butt with gauze so the teachers wouldn't call those people on his parents again. I bet Jesus felt some relief when he died too. That's what I hope will take me from this place. Death and all of it's glory, when the bastards of life suddenly become saints of afterlife. But, the school says I cannot wish for death and its divine forgiveness, it makes me crazy and I have to take the yellow and pink pills to stop the thought of its sweet release from my hell on Earth. Everyone runs from their death, they hide away out of fear. Why do I have to take the pills when I'm the only one that sees the truth of death, a blessing for a new life?