The Most Special Boy

He followed all the rules, and he was still being punished.

He sat with arms folded and raised his hand to speak. The teachers always called on him and nodded along. He turned in his homework on time and had friends and played basketball with them after school. One time a friend asked if he wanted to smoke and he replied “no, thank you”.

He had a 4.0. He applied to a dozen colleges and got into them all. His mom was so proud of him. He was a special boy, and she told him so every chance she got. He was the most special, most unique, most handsome boy, and he could achieve anything he set his mind to.

He never skipped a class in college. He graduated and got a job at a company. He never missed a day of work at the company and in exchange the company promoted him and paid him well.

How had he ended up in this small, cramped room, at the mercy of a man who wasn’t as special as he was, a man who made less money and was shorter and uglier. The man who wasn’t as special was asking him questions: “How did you meet her?, What did you give her?, Did you rape her?”.

He wasn’t supposed to be in a room like this. These rooms were for different people. People with darker skin and less money. People who weren’t special like him. The people he had never met.

He was supposed to be in a big room, on the 28th floor, with floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city. He would sit at the head of a long table, making decisions that would impact the lives of other people.

But he was in the dimly lit room he had seen on TV. The one where men cried and confessed and were taken away. The one where you knew they did it.

All he had done was taken what he wanted. He could achieve anything he set his mind to, and he set his mind to fucking that girl. Since when was getting what you want a crime? Since when was being a straight, white rich guy who’s better than everybody else a crime?

He didn’t know what to do when they took his picture, so he smiled.

He would get a lawyer and find a way out of this mess. The lawyer would know just what to say to the judge. “He’s a good boy, your honor. He just took what he wanted. Surely you can understand. This young man has a bright future ahead of him”. The judge would listen intently, nod in agreement, and strike his gavel. He would go on and live his life. The life he deserved to live.

His mom came to visit him. By then he was out of the dimly lit room and in clothes that weren’t his.

He wanted her to tell him he was special. She did.

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