This is dedicated to myself, you're insane kid.
The bell rings, ending class.
All the students rise to leave.
"Jackson, stay behind for me." The teacher announces. I roll my eyes and walk over to his desk. He pulls a chair and I sit down in front of him.
"I want to talk about what's happening to you lately." He said smoothly.
"Mr. H if it's about what happened in class today it wasn't-"
"It's not just about that, kid." He turned towards his computer and typed on his keyboard. A Word document opened.
"On your creative writing assignment, you chose to write about the human race."
"So?"
"About how much you dislike it."
"Yeah, I do."
"Explain to me why you don't." He asked.
"You read my paper didn't you? You know why."
"A persons true feelings can't be expressed through a keyboard. I want it from your mouth." He sat back in his chair and crossed his arms.
"What's there to say? It kind of speaks for itself." I mumbled.
"What does?"
"You know. People kill each other over and over for the dumbest things."
"What kind of things?"
"I don't know, like um, gangs. You can get shot in certain places for wearing the wrong color. Seems kind of dumb to me." I shrugged.
"Would you call these people radicals?" He asked.
"I guess."
"Now what about your average person who isn't necessarily a radical. What about your mother. Do you hate your mother?"
I hesitated.
"And what about people who do charity work or volunteer? Do you hate those people?"
I opened my mouth to talk but nothing came out.
"Not every one is evil, kid." He said sternly.
"But everyone is selfish." I murmured. He raised his eyebrows and sat back again.
"How so?"
"Those people who do volunteer work or charity, they just do it to look good or to make themselves feel good. There's no such thing as doing something out of the goodness of your heart. There's always a motive." I said.
"So when your father buys your mother flowers, was that selfish?"
"Sure it is. He was making himself look good for her. Maybe sex was his motive. And now that I think about it, I do hate my mother." I said. The teacher scratched his chin.
"And why's that?" He questioned.
"Because she put me in this prison."
