THE SKIN I’M IN - STEPH TISDELL
The alarm shrieked at me like a kookaburra. I opened a sleepy eye and looked at the clock: 6;30am. This was it - my first day of Year 12. The first day of my last year of school. Or, the last year to make sure that the next major phase of my life began correctly. No pressure. My crusty eyes weren't keen on the depth of that thought. Thinking about the rest of your life isn't easily accomplished when you can feel your own drool on your chin.
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