I always seemed to be an oddball. Everything I did, it seemed like I was destined to do it differently, or a way that no one else could understand. This did not stop me from making friends, for I was not a bad person. Just a different one.
They tell me of a time when different was bad, that it was frowned upon. Here, everyone loves eachother no matter the differences. Here there are no longer any wars, of hunger, or sickness. We live in happiness. It is however my differences that led me to my demise, even if others say that they are what brings us to our greatness.
Perhaps I am so different, that this thought itself didn't apply to me. Of course, the beings here also have their differences, after all no one is perfect. That was once said to me by an elder. That paraphrase has been passed down by generations for millennials.
However, no one seems to be quite as different as me.
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The other
General FictionI was never like the others. They listened, I did not. They did as they were told, yet I always seemed to want to do the opposite. I have wondered if this was an issue or a plus. I guess I could have asked the other, but she, as always, would have n...
