What Matters to Me

What Matters to Me

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WpMetadataReadOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Tue, Dec 16, 2014
Okay great, I just have one more question. What matters to you? What matters to me? What matters to me is... Wow, that's a great question I wasn't expecting that question It's not as though it's a rhetorical question They're expecting a staged answer So if I had that staged answer I would have said something along the lines of... But I don't think I need to specify what springs to my mind when not put on the spot So let me re-phrase your question What should matter to me? What should I care about? What is expected of me? I will not answer your question For I'm not a premeditated murderer It's not as though I have a script up my sleeve But wait, a script up the sleeve is far to obvious Yours is embedded in your brain We cannot predict every move, every action We are the lowly pawns on this chessboard What premeditated thing should I say that will make me seem like a better person? In my case my outcome was determined before I even opened my mouth
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New town. New identity. Same crazy. I love it!!! (insert enthusiastic voice ) (cough, cough) Not!! I hate it. I hate having to to hide who I am. But to protect the civilians and my new home from being destroyed like my last ones, I have obey the leader's rule. No matter if I do disapprove. But all of that changes when I meet, more like bump into someone who's special. ... DOOR OPENS. "Naomi Satchel!" my mother yells as she comes blaring through the doors. "Yes?" I say as I still lie under the covers. My mother pulls my cover from my body and tosses it on the floor. I quickly sit up in my bed and glare at her. "Get your ass up now you have half an hour left before your first-period starts and you better not be late," she demands. "Mom, this isn't my school. This isn't my home. I don't want to go." I whine and beg my mother at the same time to let me stay home. What was I thinking? My mom has an image to uphold being this perfect mother who loves and cares about her little baby girl. We both know the truth. Until a few years ago, I never even knew she existed. She and my father both agreed to send me here because they couldn't stand the fact that I fell in love with a black boy. Although neither of them would ever admit, that's the only reason why I know of her. I don't want to attend a school where I'm going to have to forsake who I truly am just to fit into their liking. How can I explain that to my mom when she sees everything to be black and white.

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