The Untouchables

Chapter 3 - The Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

It is the moment of truth as I watch this blinding plane that supposedly has some prince aboard it slowly start to land mocking us.

I glance at the people in the crowd, at their faces, my people come in all different shapes, colors, sizes, and personalities so how can  they all look so similar right now, all of their expressions are the same, they’re so cheerful, so pleased they take the look of children.

The corners of their mouths tilt up so much I think their faces may rip. All of the gloom is washed away like … they already forgotten who we are and where we still live and where we will forever only be accepted and belong.

You would think that all the pain and suffering that we went through, that we go through never happened like it all happened to other people in an alternate place or like it never happened in the first place.

Like we aren’t dirty and our souls aren’t infused with a strange unshakeable sadness, like a scratch you can't itch.

They are unbelievable; this situation is a fictional story, a fractured fairytale. We are not Cinderella, who only has to punish in the beginning and then in the end be awarded with a prince and a happy ending.

I’m not under his spell, the spell he put on everyone else. But sometimes I wonder why am I not happy? Why can't I also pretend like them, why can't I be a part of the crowd and join the herd of zombies?

Why, because I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve. Aware someone will see it and try to take advantage, I won’t and don’t want to be hurt by the things and people of this world, like this fake prince.

I wait for the sad moment where I can say…  I told you all so. What do they really think his visits means, food, clothing, better shelter, no more rules, our freedom.

No it means the opposite, less, less, less. We will have less of everything in the blink of an eye, and do those stupid girls honestly think he would want ragged girls like them?

Maybe this is why the girls don’t like me causing Maht to be my only friend. I’m pessimistic I hear behind my back, a downer, too literal, too opinionated, and too dis-attached. I laugh at the thought that I could be another way and that they thought I would be different.

I don’t have time to be stupid, to be blind and waste my time on mindless distractions. I shrug my thoughts off as the crowd now roars as the evil jet lands on the platform, our province that they own.

I plug my ears from their distasteful loud overreactions. My mom nudges me and I give her my best ‘Yeah this is so much fun’ fake smile but she was too preoccupied being happy to notice.

I sift my attention back on the plane as the propellers slow to a stop, I don’t know why but I can feel myself getting angrier and angrier bubbling up like a shaken soda…

He’s invading us, tricking us, teasing us; we already accepted our crumby lifestyle, why is he coming with false hope as his present. It just makes me so upset that I can't control this situation, I cannot prevent this…

And right as I see the door opening to reveal this so called prince, I turn away. I turn my back on him, on this whole situation.

This doesn’t have to have anything to do with me. I’ll ignore this; him, my people and soon this whole thing will just disintegrate leaving just fragments of a broken truth.

I walk shoving through the mass of people, until I find myself outside of the crowd. If I scream at the top of my lungs will they hear me, will they listen as I try to warn them.

I sigh frustrated and kick at the dirt road. Who am I kidding, I look like a fool, who am I trying to convince when I can't even convince myself.

Then suddenly it goes quiet and a voice disrupts my unorganized thoughts.