The real me

A boy tells me that I am the reason for 9/11. 

He says it simply and without thought,

Passing conversation in the hallway.

I want to say something but he is walking away

and I am staring at his back.

I am 8 years old.

I look in the mirror and thank God my skin is not as dark as my sister’s.

If it was I think I wouldn’t fit in at all.

“Where are you from?” asks a girl.

She squints her eyes at me as if I might disappear.

“Ohio.” I say.

She calls me a smartass, and I feel sad

Even though I told the truth.

I am laughing with my friends during lunch.

“What if Sara is a terrorist?”

They laugh, but I don’t find it funny.

That night, I scrub my skin in the shower,

So hard that the skin peels.

I am hoping there is a layer of white underneath.

I am tired of being ashamed.

I am tired of hiding behind myself.

I am finally ready to share with the world

The real me.

#NoFilter