839fantasmas: (Default)
839fantasmas ([personal profile] 839fantasmas) wrote in [community profile] keister2013-07-14 08:28 pm

You're messing with a son of a b

Título: Now you're messing with a son of a b
Autor: ([personal profile] 839fantasmas)
Prompt: música
Categoria: conto
Classificação: 13+
Gênero: humor
Sinopse: "... this little white guy didn't realize he was fighting with a son of a bitch - me -"

 “You think so right of yourself, but you are just an hypocrite. Look at you, trying to rise up as the good guy. As if you are the good guy here. You screwed up all our work and now, you pretend you can criticize me, or any of us, for what we did. You are too arrogant, seriously... too damn arrogant... You make me laugh.”

“Hey, am I the only hypocrite here? You serious? You want to laugh? Why don't you start laughing at your own stupidity? That would be better, I think.”

I decided to keep quiet until this guy finished his amazing talk, but you know, I can't. I even decided to let him off, pretend I don't care, that I'm a high spirit and things like that doesn't hurt me. But he was the lowest of the lowest and thought he could come up to me, say whatever he wanted and things would do.

All right, he says I messed up things. I kind of did mess up things. I mean, what can I do? They isolated me, pretended I wasn't there, stepped on me when they felt like doing it, treated me like garbage, so I let them to deal with themselves by themselves. But you see, things started getting ugly, because the work they were doing really sucked. Do you think anyone can compose a piece? It was only a sonata for flute and piano, but guess what happened? They shoved me aside, because supposedly I didn't know a thing – hey, I'm the Indian guy here. The one with scholarship. That must make them really angry. Really angry - , so, they put me aside and did their shit. And after I went to the teacher, because of course, he wanted explanations about why things went so bad, this hurt their pride. I mean, really. I have to hear all this shit about being an hypocrite – I never said I wasn't one -, from someone! From another human being – chances he is an hypocrite are... Do I have to say more? -. Ok, I have to hear all this shit about being an hypocrite, and being shit because I hurt some white guy ego, and he can't hear shit from someone like me, because he is white and have this ego, you know? And he had to hear a few ugly words from a teacher because of his own stupidity and I am the one to blame. I think, this little white guy didn't realize he was fighting with a son of a bitch – me -. You have to feel sorry for him, I think. I'm not shit, man... I'm a son of a bitch. And soon you'll know why.

“You little shit! You didn't want to help us since the beginning! You never wanted. You always looked down on us, you were always irresponsible, as if you didn't give a damn about our project, and you think you have the right to go and tell the teacher that we excluded you?! You think you have the right to criticize us? To criticize me? The leader?”

“That's exactly what happened. Don't play the victim here, for the fucking god you believe, sake's”

I'm so sick of people like him. The world is full of people like him. I remember this guy, who once told me, - a German guy, because unfortunately I live on Germany -, that Hitler should still be alive because you know, he would exterminate the likes of people like me. I might burden a lot people like him. This even take a smile out of my face. Being like this, staring at his stupid angry face, all hurt and saying a lot of stupid things – so typical of him -.

“Instead of coming to us and say what was wrong, you went to the teacher!”

“You do the same, don't you? You go around on your stupid meetings saying a lot of shit about me to your stupid friends. Don't play the innocent victim here, man. This won't work with me.”

“How did you know about that? Who told you that?”

“I heard once. I was passing that door, that you guys are so proud of. That room which only guys from rich families can enter, and I distinctly heard you saying that I'm only here because your school do charity. That I'm going to have trouble finding a lover, because no one around is dark skinned, but maybe the Turkish wouldn't mind dark skinned people. But all the girls you know, prefer guys fair skinned, as you prefer women fair skinned. Because you think dark skinned people are uneducated and disgusting. They appearance is disgusting, and your and the sexual preference of the girls you know doesn't accept people like me. But then, you go all cocky talking about the rights of black people in front of the mass church, and how we should be treated equally. You are full of bullshit and you still think I am the only hypocrite? Shut up, man. Just fucking shut up.”

“So, did that hurt your inferiority complex?”

I can't believe he was saying that.

“I was like that in the past, but I changed.”

“If you were like that, what right do you think you have to criticize people?”

“We judge without even noticing, haven't you realized that, Aiman?”

“The way you speak my name pisses me off”

That bastard came close to me, as I said that. And looking directly into my eyes, he said.

“Do you think I really give a damn about speaking correctly a name on your language?”

I couldn't help myself. I'm really against violence. I don't like it, when people go punching each other for no reason. I know that's how things work. People don't give a damn about my country unless they want to show how 'exotic' it is. Unless they want to make fun of us, or something like that. An European doesn't have to respect my country, and that's how things have being working since a long time. But you know, although I knew all of this, I didn't feel like remaining silent. I didn't feel like swallowing that shit anymore. How many times do I have to swallow white people shit? Why? I am important too. My mother cares about me too. There are people in this world who would miss me. There are people in this world who do respect me – I think -. You are not the only special person in the whole universe, than why be a bitch with someone like me, just because I pointed out you were wrong? I'll never truly understand white and rich people. Never.

So I punched him. My hand went down his nose and his nose did bleed. And I was so fucking amused... I can't describe how amused I was. But trust me when I say I hate violence. It can't solve anything. He'll probably hold a bigger grudge against me, and that's all. He won't ask forgiveness for saying such awful things about me, even knowing he is at fault too. He won't respect me, he won't even treat me like a human being. But it's not like if I didn't hit him, he would do any of this, so... I am pleased. As he is falling down the ground, this really ugly looking ground they have in schools like this on Germany, and which they think are ohmygod extremely beautiful, you know, I feel pleased and I want to go around jumping and playing my flute. Because man, my enemy is down on the ground. His head meeting the ground and telling each other “hello”. His nose is bleeding so damn hard... Now, I am the one who is going to laugh. While he will choke on his own. Good! Very good! Very very good! These were the first English words I remember speaking and I want to repeat them over and over and over.... Shit. That's the big shit. When you lose control and hit someone like this, all the world goes against you. Here it comes the dorm head, a teacher and that guy. That guy. Not that guy, please... Not him... I hide myself. I turn back. I don't want to run away, but I turn back. Why their god hate me so much? I'm a pagan to their stupid religion, but damn, not everyone must follow Jesus.

“Hey, you there, student.”

They never say my name, those fuckers. They don't know how to pronounce it.

I turn around, that guy is there laying on the ground, protecting his nose and crying. I want to laugh hysterically. Like I said, I am a son of a bitch. Get used to it.

But I must face the consequences. As the teacher approaches me, I let him lead me through the hallway. I pass through that guy. He keeps staring to that shit on the ground. He looks at me. I can't tell what he wants to say with those eyes of his. I just turn my face away and keep going, dragged by the teacher.