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please excuse Megan from being late |
| 8th Period Grieving “Group” meets at the high school They tell me it will be easier to talk in group I am the youngest one I start to walk back to my junior high I step over cracks and keep my hand in my pocket Seventh grade walking back from “group” I sit there silent as the older kids talk “How are you grieving today” The fence above the school Traps me into the appropriate place here Does not allow me to forget my dad died I recognize that the highway is on the other side My escape from going back to class I walk into class with my pink slip “Please excuse Megan from being late” I take my seat and try not to move I hear everyone whispering “I wonder where she’s been” Eighth period over and everyone leaves My teacher asks to see me after class “Where were you?” “I gave you the slip” She stares at me and holds her pen I cannot speak “You will get detention if it happens again, this will not be okay” I look at my “group” packet There are steps to take I assume that for me This must be part of “grieving today” |