A BOTTLE OF RED
Samantha Seal you are cordially invited to the Class of ’82 reunion.
The invitation and the thought of gracing the hallowed halls of Gilmour Collegiate made my blood run cold.
To say it was not a positive experience would be an understatement of epic proportions. In short I had few friends who were on the same social strata as I was. I was an untouchable, one of the project kids that everyone avoided. It would have been easier to be one of the unknowns. They were ignored. We got bullied. I really did wash my hair on Saturdays out of sheer boredom. There were no dances or football games on my calendar.
I blanched at the memory of my five years at the high school. It was hell on a good day.
Staring at the invite was weird as it made me want to…
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