As I walked out of the towering glass skyscraper and stepped onto the busy San Francisco streets, the cold wind hit my face.
Diane put a hand on my shoulder. She looked down at me, and for the first time since my grandmother died, I saw a genuine, warm smile on her face.
“She would be incredibly proud of you, Malik,” Diane whispered.
I reached into my pocket and touched my grandfather’s old pocket watch.
I thought about the woman on the plane. I thought about how she believed she owned the world, simply because she had a designer jacket and a rich husband. She thought she could crush me because I was small, because I was quiet, because I was different.
But my grandmother always told me: They can take your seat, Malik. But they can never take your power.
I looked up at the California sky, took a deep breath of the salty ocean air, and smiled.
I didn’t just get my seat back.
I bought the whole damn plane.
THE END.
Disclaimer: This story is fictional and created for entertainment purposes only.
Any names, characters, places, or events are fictitious or used fictitiously.
No real person or organization is intended to be portrayed.
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