I didn't let anyone see the tears misting in my eyes. I didn't let anyone know that, inside, I was just a frightened little girl who wanted nothing more than to have someone take me in their arms and say, "Everything's going to be all right." What I wanted and what I would get were two different things.
I'd met a lot of cruel and petty people in my life, and if you showed them even a tiny crack in your armor, they would see your weakness and attack. Hatred, misunderstanding, fear, and intolerance ran rampant in strangers, and if you let it get to you, it would tear you apart.
The passengers on the bus radiated everything from indifference at one end to complete animosity at the other. But I had to be strong. I had to act tough. I had to be as hard as stone.
Like a child afraid of the dark, I told myself over and over again to be brave.
There was much worse ahead of me:
I was going home.
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The Gods of Dream: An Epic Fantasy Page 37