Excerpt from a draft I’m working on – short story. completely unedited from when it seeped from my brain.
I’m not like the other kids here, I don’t fit in.
Some days, I want to be normal, and fade in to the background where they don’t notice me, but mostly I just can’t. It’s not who I am. I guess.
But when your so called parents gift with a name like Justice, you’re a target for life. The mean kids can’t help themselves, with the bullying. The verbal abuse never stops, and the physical beatings hardly ever take a break. Yeah, that’s justice for ya. You get what you deserve. (Apparently my name means I deserve it, all the time. )
So, to add to it, I get taunted a lot because no one can decide if I’m a ‘boy’ or a ‘girl’ (like it matters,) but it just makes me an even bigger target. It never gets old, when you’re a low IQ idiot born from inbred cousin couples…. Like I don’t have enough challenges. Being a kid is hard. Being an orphan is harder. Being weird, androgynous, introvert, brainiac: impossible. With a f-ed up name.
Heartless adults (usually the ones who look like cookie cutter Barbies and Kens, with average pathetic intelligence) like to tell me things like ‘you’re never given more than you can handle.” And, ‘we plan our lives in advance of being born, so everything happens for a reason.’ Or, how about ‘adversity makes you stronger.’
I’m 13. I don’t need a f-ing lesson in hard life lessons. What I need most is to be left alone, in peace, so I can just grow up, in my own weird way, without getting beat up every day. But nope, that’s not ever going to happen. I’m stuck with a guardian who doesn’t give a crap about me- their only concern is the paycheck that’s attached to my continued existence.