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Alternative: Chapter 2Looking back now, after she's had a cup of hot chocolate, cried herself out for three days straight, and ultimately failed to come to terms with the apartment, Annabeth realizes that she shouldn't have run. It just makes her look like a suspect. But she had been so irrational and crazy with grief, that she went to the only other person who could help her.
Mr. Brunner, her literature teacher.
They'd been close for as long as Annabeth could remember. He was the only one she could talk to about this. Especially because she knew she had to go after the one who did it. He was the only one who would understand.
"Annabeth, I really must advise against this."
Understand? She takes that back. "Why? I'm ready. I want to go after him."
"You're emotionally distraught, and that's understandable. But I think you should just go to the police about this. Tell them who did it."
"They'll never believe me!"
Teenage TaoismGiving birth is the closest I’d ever felt to dying.
Before that, my near death experiences had consisted only of my silent announcement of pregnancy—silent, being that my social media accounts were all deleted almost simultaneously and I never returned to school in the fall, saying without really saying that I had caught the malicious disease of “teenage pregnancy”. I’m sure the whisper spread in the hallways like the Bubonic Plague. That September, sitting at home on what would have been the first day of my senior year, I imagined friends I’d never talk to again saying “she was only seventeen, and so full of life!” at my absence in the cafeteria tables, as if they were attending my funeral instead of talking about me behind my back.
"Full of life," I had snorted then, folding a never ending stream of what had once been my own baby clothes. "Literally."
I walked around like a zombie for the months of my pregnancy, deciding t
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