Their silent support started suffocating me when I heard their whispered, sly giggling begind my back. It got out of hand when they did it to my face though and wore an expression as though telling me to be a good sport and to take it like a man.
I’m a girl I told them, on the verge of angry tears, wondering if what I ever saw in them was real or just a parody of tainted reality. Wondering why-if they didn’t believe in me, my opinions, my words or my thoughts would they ever believe and trust and kiss my dreams and usher me to success.
I started questioning their doubts about me. Started checking their words like a question paper for the second part on the back that I always missed earlier because damn if that will happen now. I’m cautious now- see I know their tricks. But hush! They will change them if they think I know about it. Keep mum and don’t dare utter a word of protest, take it like a man and dish out some of your own filth they meant, I think.
Well my filth is not gracing you with the power to shatter my will. My filth is my resolve to not let you get to me. My filth is being impervious to your dirt. My filth is it.