I have always loved to read. When I came into sixth grade, (AKA the terrible middle school) My desire for reading was extremely strong. And, apparently reading makes you a freak. I sat there, nose berried in my latest book. I guess to all those kids in my classes that was like screaming. 'Oh! Come make fun of me, I'm different!' They (Meaning other kids) hid my stuff, pushed my in bathroom, stalls, and did other things that I sincerely don't like to remember. I never had the guts to stand up to them, until somebody told me what they truly thought of me.

I never thought I'd scream at a teacher.

It was my Social Studies class, and since kids often liked to whisper terrible names, that their parents would frown upon at me when the teacher wasn't looking, I was reading. When I read, the whole world seemed to shut up. For one beautiful moment, I wasn't some typical average every day twelve year-old student. I was something else. A princess, a detective, a schoolgirl falling in love, a woman with a husband who never touched her while she craved for something more. I was somebody. So, here I am, in social studies, just reading while the teacher drowned on and some boy whispered 'freak' at me every ten seconds. Then, suddenly, the book was snatched from my two hands.

"Iola. Morton. Come see me after class."

Mrs. Snyder said, her voice vibrating with anger. My shoulders instantly hunched, and I heard all the kids giggle. I knew they would use this against me at lunch. It seemed as if every time a teacher told me off, every time I tripped, ever time I made a mistake it was show cased and used against me.

Anyways, here I am, hunched over and stripped naked, scared to death for the end of my class. I always read in class, and usually nobody noticed. Well, my teachers have actually yelled at me for it several times. But what Mrs. Snyder said, well, it was uncalled for.

All too soon the class filled sloppily out, and there was me and Mrs. Snyder.

She sat the book on the overhead and put her hands on her hips.

"This can not go on IOLA! If you don't pay attention in class, there will be consequences. We talked about you at the teachers team meeting! YOU won't amount to anything if you read! Why can't you be like all the other kids?"

That made me snap.

"You know what!"
I shouted, suddenly feeling more alive, and more interesting then any of those people in those books.

"YOU KNOW WHAT! I am going to amount to something, because I'm the underdog. The one that nobody roots for, that every body throws hateful words at, but in the end changes the world! I'M going to amount to something because I read. AND if I was like all the other kids, I'd me a boy obsessed, naive, soft, stupid, little, shallow, girl who picked on everybody any less then a clone from her. I'M who I AM! And you know what, thanks for telling me that, because every time I get pushed down and kicked, I'll remember your words and create some sick obsession to prove you wrong. Your words will give me determination and desperation! I'm different, and you know what? GIVE me a detention for all I care! In fact, I WANT you to give me a detention, so I can go home and tell my parents that I'm different, and that I'm sorry I'm not the perfect daughter they want me to be! That I'm something special. The underdog. I'm different and I'm proud, so what are you going to do about it?"
Well, actually she was going to stand there shell shocked, look at me, and then give me a detention. Actually, several detentions. But then, later that day, I looked up the word underdog.

Noun underdog (plural underdogs)

A competitor thought unlikely to win.

That was, me, the underdog. But I WAS going to come out on top.

I was going to change the world, weather the world liked it or not.

I am an underdog.