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Personal Narrative: A Day At Satomi High School

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Satomi High School
I go by the name Blaire, and I’ve been living in the city of Kyoto, in which are countless numbers of colorful, sky-high temples along with dull-looking, small-sized shrines that tourists visit every day. I have silky, straight black hair that runs from my head to the middle of my back that all the school girls mostly have, sorrowful-looking turquoise eyes, and my light-colored diamond-shaped face being sprinkled with the lightest brown freckles on the apple on my cheeks. I mostly wear a frilly, white and black knee-length skirt with a sheer white-colored long-sleeve shirt with the sleeves running to my wrist which has two long black stripes, a short blood-red ascot, and black and white plaid high-heeled shoes with a 6 inch spike heel, 2 inch concealed platform, and a stylish
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Studying was very common for the students who attended my school, Satomi High, the place where a school girl murdered her best friend that goes by the name of Miyashiro Hairi. This incident happened in 2017, 3 years ago, although surprisingly no one seems to remember this event. I even asked the teachers that have been working at the school since the incident has occurred and none of them recall, they probably don’t even understand me because I am a foreign exchange student from the United States and I can only speak a little basic Japanese.
I put on my black and white school uniform with my red ascot and plaid high-heels. I took my hot pink, mixed bristle brush and brushed my black hair with it until it got as smooth as I wanted it to. I grabbed my bright red, leather, randoseru school bag and put it over my broad shoulders, grasping the straps. I headed towards the sliding doors that had western red cedar slats on the sides of the black-glass panes in order to complement the high gloss finish on the cypress pine
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