Their Wrongs, My Rights
Kira and I ran off the bus and shuffled through the sea of kids trying to get through the double doors of Birches Elementary. Some push into Kira, pushing me, so she laughs, and I push her back. We do this playfully for a couple of seconds, and I say, "Oh my gosh, Kira, I'm going to kill you!" and we laugh and go to class. I felt like something had been off. I could always sense when someone was talking about me. I don't pay much mind to this. Then, our class goes out for recess, and I hear my name being called on the loudspeaker. Yippie! I thought, my mom never picks me up early. I wondered what she was there for. I couldn't think of any other reason I would be called down to the office; I wasn't one of those kids. When I get there, Kira is standing there with my other neighbor that we'd play with. The principal tells me that she heard I told Kira I would "kill her" and wanted to make sure I didn't mean it. "You didn't mean that, right?" she said. With her bleached-blonde pixie hair cut. "No," I was scared, ashamed, felt guilty. I don't remember much that happened after that; I didn't want my parents to know. I didn't want to be in trouble after all I was the only Muslim in the school I had to uphold our title. I kept that secret to myself for 15 years, that guilt, that burden, their wrongs. I was just being a kid.
- SMK
