Why I am Me

June 3, 2009
By Anonymous

It was a beautiful sunny afternoon as I was walking along a street, I thought that today I might actually have a good day. Of course I was wrong. Suddenly, a car came speeding down the street carrying four college kids. I saw them coming and saw how the driver shouted something to his friends. When I saw them suddenly break into large, devilish grins I knew something bad was going to happen. Before I could react, they took their half full slurpies and threw them at me. I couldn’t jump to the side fast enough so one slurpie hit me in the face. I heard them drive away, all four of the college kids laughing hysterically. I stood there and wiped the slurpie off of my face, and as I did so I couldn’t help but wonder why these things always happened to me. Ever since I was a little kid I had always been the one being picked on; whether it was because I wore different clothes, acted differently than other people, or even sometimes just because I was tall, I was always the one who was picked on most. It was like I was cursed.

After cleaning up, I looked around the street and as I did my eyes were caught by something peculiar. There was this one house that seemed darker than the rest and for some reason the inside was so dark that you could not see through the windows even though it was midday. I stood gazing at it for a while before I realized why I was so transfixed by it, the dark house that stood in the middle of all that light was like the darkness that I could feel starting to take root in my chest. I realized this, and smiled.

The author's comments:
This specific incident never happened, but it is how I have come to feel.

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