“You Don’t Belong Here”
<p>Inan unguarded moment, my thumb was crushed.</p>
<p>Blood spilled out.</p>
<p>What began as fun quickly turned into a nightmare. The shock sponged my tears, save the beads of cold sweat that were beginning to form. I felt a sense of horror.</p>
<p>My friend Isaac cringed, and his throat tightened. His eyes bulged. Gathering himself, he staggered forward, grabbed my hand, and yelled for help.</p>
<p>Via Sapegno is a wind monster.</p>
<p>You’ll often find people chasing umbrellas, fighting to keep their dresses down, cringing, and hiding their faces in their palms as they walk by.</p>
<p>Only the trees, with shrewd and flexible disobedience, resisted the wind.</p>
<p>I stepped out of the house and, immediately, frowned, as a gush of wind hits me.</p>
<p>“Not again!”</p>
<p>I hate it here — the dryness, the wind, and the heat.</p>
<p>“Why can’t it… have at least one friggin beach?” I lament.</p>
<p>There is a lot of bitterness in my heart towards many things. Deep within, I felt out of place. But it was a feeling I never took the time to question. So it never occurred to me that I was often out of sorts — and out of character.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>The way in which we see the world has a lot to do with the way we see ourselves.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Shutting the door behind me, My big cast arm dangling on my chest, I began my daily melancholic walk to the supermarket.</p>
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