Dear Diary, The date is January 3rd, 1965. I just got home from school, I hated it. All the kids make fun of me, make fun of my inability to focus, my lack of impulse control. Why did god make me like this, why couldn’t I be normal like the other kids on the playground? Why can’t I make any friends? My mom said I’m just a little awkward and a late bloomer. But even the awkward kids have friends. I have none.
All I do all day is go to school, get bullied, come home and play with my toys, and wish I had someone to play with. My mom is going to take me to the doctor tomorrow and get a checkup. Whoopee.. I hate the doctor, all the noises make me extremely uneasy. All the coughing and pen clicks make me want to go insane. Anyways I got to go to sleep.
Спасибо за чтение!
It's a pity this lat chapter was so rushed! The story was very sweet, but suddenly in the last chapter years have passed? And why did he have to leave the class and not Randy? how did he get into Stanford? Then he had Asperger-Autism (which should have been explained before). Pity-this had potential
Мы можем поддерживать Inkspired бесплатно, показывая рекламу нашим посетителям.. Пожалуйста, поддержите нас, добавив в белый список или отключив AdBlocker.
После этого перезагрузите веб-сайт, чтобы продолжить использовать Inkspired в обычном режиме.