Boo Radley's Diary

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The gruesome taste of the grimy, filthy dirt traveled up my nostrils. Scout’s nails punctured into my skin as she grabbed the collar of my shirt and finally lifted me up from the ground. I looked up to see a young boy who I believed would often be called by the name of Jem. He looked at me with compassion and pity in his eyes. By his words, he knew that I was a Cunningham. Usually, I'll come home to nothing to eat, but some peanuts on the kitchen table. It became a routine ever since I was born. My family didn’t have anything to spare, and we surely didn’t have enough to be able to afford food onto our plates during lunch or dinner. Ms. Caroline sure 'ought to understand the brutality of my kind, but nothing that could compare

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