THE ULTIMATE BURDEN
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- Parts 5
Ongoing6m
Last published Fri, Aug 12, 2016
I was a very playful kid. I always never fail to get scolded by teachers and go to detention. Sometimes I would tend to drag my classmate or friends down with me, and make them lose a very important or I can also say one and only break in school that we could finally relief dress by playing games or eating some delicious food in the schools canteen. Because of these accidents, I have been called a burden. While, that did not really affect me. I always thought I was that biggest burden until one fateful day, I met the legit ULTIMATE BURDENS. They are so bad that I cannot use any word to describe them.
I would not mention their name to protect their identity. I would call them burden 1 and 2.
I dedicate this to my classmates that suffer because of them as well
BTW I am not a burden
Hope u would like this short story!!!
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I gave everything really gave everything. But what did come out? Accusations! Supposedly I'm the traitor. Always smile always friendly, get as many contacts as possible be like a sponge that sucks up any sadness. But in the end it didn't help. Everyone believed it and not me. Throughout my childhood, books were my friends. Since I could hold a pen, I've been painting. Since I was able to form my first words, I have been writing. That was what my passion was. But now I'm being accused because of it. Society took away everything and left me with pen and paper and now it took that also away. I was accused of being a traitor because if my beloved analyses about heroes. And I had so many people who could stand by me, who had evidence that. But in the end they turned their backs on me just to have fun watching me suffer. What if I turn the tables? You want a villain you get one. Not that it was somehow my will but I accept what I get. A trait I had to learn because I was quirkless I can't afford to say anything against it. The time we parted dear fiends is because I was a villain in your eyes now we meat when I am a villain in my eyes.
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