I am me

• Kim Hibel, Grade 11
• Short Story
• 2006

He starts to walk faster, his heart pulsating like a drum. He hears the shouting of unfriendly name calling, the sound of more people joining to ridicule him. He would give anything and everything just to be left alone. The screeching of bike tyres thunders up behind him. Sweat beads now begin to roll down from his forehead, his mind consumed with only thoughts of fear and distress.

His backpack, carrying his few school books and half eaten lunch, ripped of him and thrown. As all his belongings sprawl to the ground, his attention is focused on the children who’ve chosen him as their victim.

“You don’t deserve to go to our school, your dirty and worthless, you are below everyone here”. The group of children began to taunt and holler out slandering comments to the young boy who’d never done anything to deserve it. He looked at the gathering of the shameless children that stood in front of him. They all had uncaring eyes and hearts of ice.

He looked back down to the ground and began to collect his possessions and place them back into his bag. He turned away and starting to walk back home. The children behind him once again, were yelling out devaluing comment, which was slowly drowned out by the reassurance in his mind that if he was to join them in the insulting and mockery, he would be no better than them.

He arrived at his home and looked at himself in the mirror. He had the same eyes as the other children, same nose and same lips, He looked at his hands, which were the same, as were his legs and arms. The only difference between the other children at school and himself was his colour. They were white and he was black. But that didn’t make him different from what they did or what they knew. In his mind he knew he was just as important and needed as the other children were and that it didn’t matter if he looked different in colour. He looked back up to the mirror and said softly, I am me.