”What are you doing here, boy?” They kept asking me.
Every day they asked me.
And every day I told them the same thing.
”The same thing as you” I told them and they just looked at me.
None believed me.
None thought I was going to make it.
I was too young.
I wasn’t going to be a part of their little club.
But that was never my goal.
I never wanted to be one of them.
I wanted to be better than them.
I was going the show them that I was better than them.
That I deserved their respect.
That I wasn’t going to be called ”boy” anymore.
One day I was going to show them.
And until then I had to keep going there.
I would have to endure their comments.
And one day I would be better than them.
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Categories: flash fiction