enough of him

I hated his existence. I wanted to erase him. I wanted to make sure nobody remembered him. I look at him in the restroom, the pool, and through the window of the classroom. What a failure. Can’t get anything right. Fs instead of As—his parents furious. Homosexual—his grandfather disappointed. No friends—a social outcast.

It was the last day of school. His last day as well. The day to cure the world of him. What a loser. We got our finals back, and he didn’t even look at the score. He knows what he got. Another zero. He keeps saying that he has dyslexia or whatever, but anyone can read. His parents say he’s just lazy. What a loser. I watch him walk to lunch all by himself. What a loser. His parents don’t give him money to buy food because why would anyone want to spend money on a failure?

He sits all by himself at a table. People join him, but obviously not his friends. Someone spilled milk on him, but it was an accident, of course. What a loser.

He goes to the restroom to clean up, and a few “friends” tag along behind. The fool gets slapped. Punched. Kicked. I smile. What a loser. I’ll make sure to finish him off. I’ll give them what they want.

He gets back home, and his parents barrage him with curses about being held back again, but he escapes into his room— his sanctuary.

I lost my patience. I pounced with a knife in hand, and I stared into his dark eyes as I slit his throat. His eyes widened and a single tear rolled down his face. I realized he wanted to live.

A mirror doesn’t lie.

Kayla Tillman