Pocahontas Now

3

"Go back to Africa." I always heard the racist mutters of my fellow class members when I walked through the sea of white. I was one of the only coloured people in this school ground, in this town, even. Everyone surrounding the boy, of course, laughed. John Smith, it was always him. The blonde haired, stunningly attractive male who enjoyed every bit of attention he could possibly soak up. I was honestly beyond lucky to have Nakoma, Meeko and Flit aside me, assisting me through the many dangers of societies evil. I helped myself to the main table that I usually gave the pleasure of me sitting on it and being assaulted by the teacher because she wishes of me to "keep my ass in my chair", for a class of year seven students; she was quite the swearer. The typical day was enforced. Meeko sat next to me in class one, Flit in two and Nakoma in three and four. We then all left each other to play out the fun part of the day, our electives. I was an aspiring artist, as everyone is at this age, so my elective was art. Meeko and Flit were both the sporty type and left me for their own game of team sports, I found it disgusting, whilst Nakoma left me for her dream of being the star in a show, Drama. The infamous John Smith was in my class for this period. Ben and Lon, two men who had gone through puberty early and were tall and very broad, and Thomas, a small handsome man who desired to be in this little cliché. Of course, before we began, John made an act of grabbing the black bucket of paint and giving it to me, saying: "Wow, this colour matches the shade of your skin soo well!" and flashed me his winning smile as his blonde hair fell into his green eyes. If only Nakoma was in this room, they were afraid of her and did not make their little jokes to me when she was around!