Who am I? Am I the girl in the window drinking black coffee on a sunny day? Or am I the boy riding his bike around the neighborhood sending out newspapers? I ask myself these things because I fear I won't know who I am. Looking back when I was younger, I was never interested in what the girls were doing or the guys. I don't think I was interested in much except for watching movies and reading stories. Watching others lives was what made me happy. Knowing they knew who they were made me happy.
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Who am I?
RandomA young adult comes face to face with a new self-discovery about themselves and tries to accept them for who they are.
