Flash! Fiction 3 by Peter McMillan - HTML preview

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I told her I wanted to be different ... so that people wouldn't pick on me. She told me the same old thing.

"There's nothing wrong with you, Amy. You're a beautiful little girl, you're healthy as a horse, and you're very bright."

"I know Mama. You always say that."

"You're my daughter, so, of course it's true. I've told you before, and I meant it then and I mean it now. So, what's this about your want-ing to be different?"

"But is it possible?" I asked.

"Is what possible, darling?"

"Can someone be different, like become different?"

"There are lots of ways people change as they grow up. Boys and girls become men and women— "

"I'm not talking about that," I said.

"What then, dear?"

"Well, me and Ellen — uh, Ellen and I — were in Macy's and this lady at the makeup counter was talking about how everybody gets new skin every seven years. The old skin cells die and get replaced and after seven years, the skin's all new."

"Well ... yes, there's some truth to that, but how does that—"

"I was thinking if I had new skin, I might look different. And if I looked different, maybe I wouldn't get teased and made fun of."