I never thought that a nine year old could be so opinionated. I snuck home a few hours ago, and informed Phoebe that I have been expelled from Pencey. She thinks that our dad is going to kill me. I can’t help the fact that these fancies schools are full of phonies. Then she asked me whom I like. The only people I could think of are people who are dead. Maybe that’s because I wish I was dead sometimes too.
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