Hidden behind a book, she violently shook, afraid that she wasn't herself, and that she'd end up like everyone else.
The zombies that walked the halls, who people called human beings, weren't at all. They were like robots. No feeling, only commands. Who left everyone else, to run their errands.
Now she felt like standing up. Against racism, against slavery, against all the human beings in the school. Yet still she shook, afraid the if she looked, she would be just like one of them.
Deficiency wasn't a trait of hers, but lately she found it was. Deficient against fakers, who were followers, not leaders. Deficient against her own self, full of a web of lies, and only one spider of truth.
If she could rewind time like a tape, she would. She'd go all the way back in time, all the way to when they were first pulsing blood.
There are many things she'd do, starting with who's who. Are you a follower, or are you a leader? Are you a faker, or are you a believer?
Some things just weren't meant to be, like racism and slavery. We need to rise. Against all those things we truly despise, all those things that caused harm to our country, all those things that were never meant to be.