I am Different.
Everyone knows it. I've seen the way that they look at me, like I'm some sort of freak.
I know they skirt away from me in the hallways, as if I am contagious.
The teachers treat me different, too.
”Come on,Marie, write this prompt down.”
I stare at the words on the whiteboard....So that is why I am always last…
The letters seem to mix and twist around, moving too fast for me to see.
I cry out, but no one hears me. The world spins. Everything goes dark, leaving me alone.
Alone.
As usual…
No comments:
Post a Comment