YA Contemporary
All the Things We Pretended Didnt Matter
Niamh Vale
The video began with a locker door half open, a sleeve caught on the metal hook, and my name being said like it was a dare. Not shouted. That would have been easier. Shouting gave a person something to point at, a villain’s shape, a line in the corridor where the wrongness began. This was worse because it was quiet enough to sound private and clear enough to become public.
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