Slap

By NationChild

Created on January 9th, 2007

It wasn’t fair. Everyone considered him to be inferior to the rest of them, for some odd reason.

They threw random things at him, pencils, erasers, protractors, whatever they could find, so long as it wasn’t too big. Another sad part about that was they seemed to enjoy it.

As he walked late into the classroom, he attempted to ignore the cat whistles. They’ll never learn, will they? It’s their problem anyway.

He walks into the lunchroom, eyes darting around, searching for a seat. A spot finally located, he heads toward it rather quickly. For good reason. Last time the others started switching seats randomly, eventually uncovering a vacant seat at the end of the table.

Oh, boy. Now math. His worst subject. He prepared himself for the teasing and ridiculing that was to come when he read out his answers. Inwardly sighing, he trudged into his math classroom.

After an aggravating and stressful day, sometimes he enjoyed a peaceful walk in the park, taking the long way home. Alas, the relaxing stroll never came to be, for as he exited the school, he felt others’ presence behind him, and he felt them almost trod on his heels. They snickered and sneered, pulling faces and making rude remarks.

That evening, after a nourishing yet empty meal, he lay in bed, stared up at his pale, white ceiling, and thought. People criticized him, and there could be a number of possible reasons why. Perhaps they were jealous, or maybe he had to resist their hostility, as a sort of initiation into the community. Whatever the reason, it would be their loss in the end. They shouldn’t know what a good person they were missing out on.

With a cracked smile, the boy fell asleep.