Personal Narrative: Domestic Abuse In High School

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When I got on the SEPTA 66 bus from Frankford Transportation Center, it was just another plain day for me. I spent a hearty amount of my day enjoying my biology class and falling asleep in my computer class. When I would get home, I’d either take a nap or try to do some homework for my online courses.
I stepped on the bus, swiped my transpass, and sat at my usual spot on the bus; the three seater facing the backdoor. I see that across from me, there was a girl in a maroon catholic high school uniform on her phone. She’s a bit thicker and she’s wearing glasses. I only take one look at her and I go back on my phone to watch my show, waiting for the bus to pull out.
I watched my show for a little bit and then look back up that girl, and I notice
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Eighteen would make me a feel a little better because then she’d be only a year younger than me. However, at the same time it wouldn’t because that’s still too young. Seventeen has always been an odd age but not odd enough to excuse domestic abuse. Everything of some sort of substance has happen to everyone when they’re sixteen, it just goes with the territory. Someone you’re close to die, you lose your virginity, you get into serious trouble for the first time. I guess being abused would go in that grouping as well. It still doesn’t sit well with me; she might as well be six instead of …show more content…
Obviously, it was from someone else but I wonder how it all came about. Was there a disagreement of some sort and instead of using words to fix it, use fists instead? Or did the perpetrator just like to choke people like how some people like to knit as some sort of sick, violent hobby? In addition, if either of these two answers were correct, why would the girl stick around with someone like that?
Maybe there is a better answer, a less cringe-worthy, gun-turning answer. Maybe I was initially correct about it being the by-product of a sensual weekend; perhaps this young catholic girl was into very un-catholic things like breath play. Her lover went a little too hard and left marks. However, if it were the product of a productive sexual adventure of the weekend, why would there be War and Peace length replies between her and the recipient of her text messaging?
There are too many incredible possible of why that girl had those bruises on her neck and if you try to think of all of them, your head swims. And if you try to think of what will happen to that girl, instead of your head swimming it’s your heart. And your heart’s not swimming, it’s

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