Writing Prompt: One of Them

Yup, I know. I have not been around for two days. I was nursing back pain that kept me in bed most of the time.

It was one of those pains that made it impossible to stand, sit, and even lie down in many positions.

I am better now. I am moving better. So, instead of dwelling on it, I am continuing the prompts. This is one is interesting, especially when you look around at today’s social landscape.

So I will close my eyes, pinch my nose, and dive right into it.

All my life I have been one of them.

Not in the “in” crowd.

Not fit for the “out” crowd.

Not fitting in anywhere.

Adrift with other mismatched pieces.

Others who where one of them.

We were tormented, bullied, can cast aside.

We were the target of many jokes, pokes, and ridicule.

We were THEM after all.

Everyone needs a punching bag, and I was one.

Being a them wasn’t freeing.

It wasn’t glamourous.

It wasn’t popular.

It simply was.

Being of them was merely existing.

Waiting for my time to escape the hell that was my life.

The hell that was 12 years of school.

The hell that was constantly being told I was ugly.

I was one of them after all.

Why would I be pretty?

Why would I dare to stand out?

It did not matter how small I made myself.

How I tried not the be noticed.

I was, but never in a positive way.

I was, after all, one of them.

Ugly, always wearing the wrong clothes.

I was, after all, one of them.

The maker of poor choices, mainly friends.

If you asked the ones of whom I was the target,

I was all of that.



Had the wrong friends.

Wearing the wrong clothes.

I was, after all, one of them.

An object of ridicule, never to be liked.

I was, after all, one of them.

The outcast.


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