People see me and walk right by. They turn their head and look the other way. I wondered why they did this. Is it my skin, race or religion? I sat at lunch nobody talked to me or sat nearby. I was invisible to their eyes. They didn’t see me, but why, they had eyes. How could they be so blind? Why do they hate me? What did I ever do to them? I’m not sure why things are the way they are.
People treat you differently when they are the same. We may be similar but the line separates us. The line consists of many groups and races. Everyone is out of control, yet somehow it’s like a brooding war. No one speaks to others because they believe in things that aren’t there. They did this because of their race, religion, or due to some other reason they might have. Yet I still am not sure why they act this way. Why they snap and taunt, mocking one another. I wondered if things could every change. Maybe some people really can’t change, even though you think they can. But what if they can’t? Eventually sometime, some where, at some point in life and time they will see that we are all the same.
Walking down the lonely halls I see and watch their every move. But they never even notice me. Why are they so blind? Is it my skin, race or religion? In the classroom I’m in an isolated corner. No one speaks or looks at me, not even the teacher. They put writing on my locker warning me to leave. Even though they were mean, cruel, and harsh; I didn’t pay much attention to the matter. Till the day they beat me up, in the girl’s locker room. Leaving the locker room and walking the lonely halls yet again, I see their faces laughing. I see the masks they all wear but try to hide. At my locker the warnings got more intense as the year progressed. I see their warnings; I look around and see their hatred towards me.
I grabbed my belongings and rushed to the bus. They chased after me as I dashed onto the bus. I huddled in the corner of my seat as far as I could. I tried not to cry but I couldn’t hold it in. The tears raced down my face like a waterfall. No one could fix my wounded heart. My emotional scars lasted me through out the rest of the school years. I tried not to show them my fear, yet I was truly afraid. Was it my skin, race or religion?
Where was I to go from here? What could I do? I couldn’t fight them, for they were too powerful. No one ever understood. I told no one, I was afraid that if I opened my mouth that something could happen, that they would come and get me. I had no other choice so that night I put a gun to my head. I pulled the trigger. I couldn’t take it anymore, it was all too intense. I was tired of being invisible and ignored. But the night I pulled the trigger all I could think about was how mean they were to me, and that only God would judge them when their time came. I was unable to figure out the answer to my original question, I never knew if it was all because of my skin, race or religion; if that was the root of it all. I didn’t understand how people could be so mean. Why did they act that way? I did nothing to them, but they still did this to me.