Who
Cares?
by Kat Dale
242 words (1.5-2 minutes)
| Do you see those girls,
at school? The ones who have perfect hair and perfect
nails, and the one kissing the latest hottie behind the
toilets. They are always perfect, with their ‘cool’
shoes and there funky new hair clips. They’re always
daddies little darling. She can have anything; those
diamond earrings, the $500 teddy in the gift shop window.
It’s all them. They are the real leaders, no one
else matter. So were do we fit in? My friends and I? Are
we just the nerds, who sit in the library with no life???
I guess we don’t have the money to fit in. We were raised on the ‘wrong’ side of town. With all the ‘wrong’ people. And all because we don’t have those billabong pants. Who cares? Her mother killed herself. And her father, he was a drug dealer. But we do we exist to them? Do they know what we have been through? I suppose to them we don’t have lives. No, believe it or not we have lives. We don’t sit in our rooms and listen to Mozart. We are just like them. Oh, ! no! were not, we don’t have perfect nails, or the latest etnies. I guess were just shadows. Sitting there, wishing we were that girl, with the loving father, and the gorgeous hair, sparkling eyes, and perfect lips. No, were not good enough. Were just outsiders. The un-cool. The Unknown. The unwanted. Who cares |