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a girl and a boy

I was born to be somebody. I was born to be somebody. I was born to be somebody. I was born to be somebody. I was born to stand tall. I was born to be somebody. I was born to be somebody. I was born to be somebody. I was born to be somebody. I was born to be somebody. I was born to be somebody. I was born to Be. I was born to be somebody. Believe it. Dream it.

One day a girl and her cousin went to the movie theaters for free, to watch the second Justin Bieber movie. The movie was great. Super endearing and magical, hopeful. Her chest swelled and her eyes filled with unborn tears of gratitude and promise. She, too, was born to be somebody. To love and be loved as much as she did the boy she watched on the screen. The one that made life worth living. That reflected purity and potential and possibility right back at her. When exiting the movie theater, she realized her iPod was missing—it must’ve fallen out of her pocket as she sat captivated in front of the screen. A simple report to the customer service rep should suffice. It didn’t. A chat with a manager should do the job. Nope. The girl’s mother bought her the iPod for Christmas. It was so special to her, a prized possession—a gift from the one she admired most in life, whose love and attention she yearned for most. And now it was gone. That iPod was all she had to prove that her the love of her mother did exist. Without it she felt alone, hurt, lifeless and really really angry. That iPod was HERS. That iPod WAS her. Another piece of her gone. Never to see the light of day again. Never given the chance to develop into more. Or become whole. The girl cried the entire way home on the public bus, isolated from her cousin and eldest sister. Borrowing her sister’s iPod, on repeat she listened to the boy; who reminded her she, too, was born to be somebody.

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