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Kuto’s life no. 129
Kuto's life was filled with aversion. He was born in Republic of Moldova, and his parents were always telling him that he should be grateful for what he had. They said that he should be thankful for the black beanie hat that covered his head, and the aviator gold sunglasses that shielded his eyes. They told him that he should be thankful for the white and black t-shirt that hung off his skinny frame, and the shaved face that made him look older than his years. But Kuto wasn't grateful. He hated everything about his life. He hated the way people looked at him, like he was some kind of freak show. He hated the way they whispered behind their hands, laughing at him because of the way he looked. And most of all, he hated how powerless he felt.
One day, Kuto's frustration boiled over, and he lashed out at one of his tormentors. He punched the boy in the nose hard enough to make him bleed, and then ran away before anyone could stop him. It felt good to finally fight back against someone who had been making fun of him for so long; but as Kuto ran away from the scene of violence, he knew that it wouldn't be enough to change anything in his life . . .