Not His World

He kept hoping they would not show, although he went there to meet them up. He knew they'd show up but he would be glad if they ditched him. He heard their laughter, followed by a string of curses. He sighed and went up to meet them. They handed him a cigar and he took a drag. He hated cigars so much. The discussion proceeded and they started with the usual talk of "the bitches"(girls from the night before). He was expected to come up with a story and so he did. He talked about a girl he claimed to had left with whom he had done unspeakable things to. The knot in his chest tightened as he spoke. They cheered him on with screams and hi-fives, if only they had cared enough to notice he wasn't at the club with them the night before. They talked about the weed and the booze and more about "the bitches". He wondered what it would be like to have real friends. The people around him were people he had grown up with on the block yet he felt like they were all monsters. He knew he needed to break free but the only world he knew how to blend in was their world. All around him were several of the monsters, yelling and laughing, cursing and cheering. He felt even more alone than he had being feeling earlier. Could they not see how unhappy he was? Through the smile and the laughter? Could they not see the way he gritted his teeth every time they handed him a cigar? The way he never drank,coming up with one excuse or the other? They called each other "homie" and he wondered if they knew what the word meant. He did not belong to that life, he did not belong with the kids from the block. He knew greatness awaited him and so silently he got up, looked back once at the kids he had grown up with whom he could now barely recognize and gently walked out of the pub.