by A.R. Thomas
“Loser.” That’s what you called me. You thought it was funny, didn’t you? Remember when you took all my clothes during PE? No?
Let me tell you what I remember. I remember crying under the bleachers after you humiliated me once again. I remember when she found me, so alone. So very alone. She offered a gift. I didn’t want it, but she gave it anyway. I remember the darkness washing over me. More than anything, I remember the hunger when I awoke.
You forgot about me, didn’t you?
I never forgot you.
So, who’s the loser now?