Imagine you lived in a world where you were considered less than a human simply because you had brown eyes. Now, that's a lot of people considering it's the most commonly found eye color on the planet. You'd probably start wearing contacts or look into some surgery that would permanently change your eye color (is that even possible?). The point of the matter is simply this: it would suck and you would hate it. You might even end up hating yourself because of it if the harassment escalated too far.
Now, let me tell you about the world I live in. I live in a world where people despise me, harass me, spit on me, want to kill me, all because of a trait I was born with, something I can't easily change. Not that any doctor would even consider helping me because of my "affliction," as they call it. By now, since I can't imagine any of you live in the same place I do, you're probably wondering what this "affliction" could be. I'm not going to tell you, though. Not yet. I don't know if I can trust you.
What I will tell you, though, is a story about one time when I almost got caught. It was close, really close. I must have been knocking on Death's door the entire time. Scratch that. I was definitely knocking on Death's door the entire time. Do you know what that's like? To be so close to death. It really changes a person...kind of. Not in my case, but maybe in the case of some asshole who thinks he is the world.
Have you ever been so hungry that would literally eat anything? I mean anything. Like a moldy piece of bread. Or flies, trapped in a spider's web. Or even a piece of fat from someone's meat that they chewed on and spit out because it wasn't good enough for them. It's good enough for you, though, because you're dying, literally dying, of starvation. Well, I've been that hungry. I guess it comes with being hated by society. I was that hungry when I was almost caught. It wasn't the first time I had experienced that sort of hunger, but it was the first time that it actually affected anything. Like my mind. I must have been going crazy. I thought it would be a good idea to walk down the middle of one of the busiest streets in the city.At any moment, I could have been exposed. Luckily for me, it didn't. At least, not on the street.
On my right was a restaurant. The smell of food was taunting me mercilessly. I had to go in, it was like it was calling to me. So I went in. What I planned on doing was beyond me. I didn't have any money or anything to trade but service. It was dead silent inside the restaurant. Not a single patron around. The server wasn't anywhere to be seen. With cases full to bursting with food of all kinds, this was my chance. I reached into a heated case where a whole roasted chicken was just sitting, waiting for someone to take it. So I did. I grabbed the chicken with both of my hands and bit right into it. Right there in the restaurant. I didn't have the sense to run away with it. I had never seen so much food at once in my entire life. After a couple of bites, I felt like I was being watched. I looked up and there was the server, staring at me in horror.
My heart was beating so fast I could feel it pounding against my chest. Blood was rushing, pounding in my ears. Chicken grasped tightly between my hands, I ran for it. Thankfully, I had enough sense to run away from the main entrance and not out onto the crowded street where I would have caused a scene. A window was open into the alleyway. I threw the chicken before leaping through it myself. Once out the window, I grabbed the chicken and continued running as fast as I could. The server was right behind me, running almost as fast as I was. I made it to the end of the alleyway before feeling like my energy was draining quickly from my body. Not that I really had much to begin with considering I'd had no food for about a week. I turned to face the server who was standing just a few feet away from me now.
"What the hell are you doing?" The server almost sounded more curious than pissed. But I noticed the weapon the server had and my already pounding heart fluttered. Shit. Shit shit shit. I could barely stand up right now, how was I going to avoid getting shot? Why hadn't the server just shot me in the first place? I said nothing, just backed away slowly. I really just wanted to live. And eat the chicken, but that was secondary to living.
"I said, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!" The server sounded much angrier this time. I was panting, backing away, holding onto the chicken for dear life. With an exasperated sigh, the server stepped towards me. That was the final straw. I made some weird animalistic noise (I didn't know I was even capable of that!) and rushed backwards. I fell flat on my ass, and the worst part was that my disguise had fallen off. The server's eyes widened at the realization of what I was. I was an Afflicted.
Slowly, the server lifted the gun, pointing it at me. "You...you're one of them." There was so much disgust in the server's voice I wanted to vomit. Or maybe that was the overwhelming excitement of the whole chicken thing that made me want to vomit. The server looked around as if looking for help. There was no one. We were alone. The gun lowered. Curiosity replaced the disgust on the server's face. "What's it like? Being Afflicted?"
I was astounded. I thought everyone was supposed to hate us. No words would come to me. I sat there looking dumb with nothing to say. Finally I made a gurgling noise that made the server jump. It was funny, really, seeing how scared the server was of me when, in reality, we weren't really very different.
"It's shit." They were the only words I could manage. It felt like we were finally getting comfortable with each other when a loud noise echoed behind the server. We both jumped. I grabbed my disguise, threw it back on and ran for it again. The server was looking for whatever had made the sound. When the server noticed my disappearance, I could hear the words following me, "Hey! Wait!" A gun shot rang out behind me and I ducked instinctively, trying to protect my head with the chicken that was still tightly grasped in my hands. Rounding a corner, I flew as fast as my feet could carry me back to the slums, a junkyard that housed at least one hundred, though probably more, of us "afflicted." I'd gotten away. I'd really done it. And I had enough food to last me, well, it would last as long as the chicken didn't rot.
Well, that's the story. Sorry if it wasn't as exciting as you were expecting, but oh man, you should have been there. I am honestly surprised I made it out alive and totally unharmed. That is a miracle. Maybe, if you ask nicely, I'd be willing to tell you another story sometime.
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