A short - short story about placing myself in someone else's shoes

I looked at my new tattoo.

‘WHITE AND PROUD’ was now written across my abdomen. 

It had been unbelievably painful, but seeing it in the mirror did make me proud and strong.  It made me feel complete.  I had to show the superiors that I was ready to take the next step and be a true Brother.  

A permanent reminder of what I believed in was a requirement. It was my first tattoo but I thought that was the easy part.  What came next made my skin turn cold.

Growing up, I got good grades, stayed out of trouble and had a succession of male and female nannies.  The one constant in my life was my Auntie Ellie.  

Auntie Ellie didn’t like anyone that wasn’t white and American.  She voiced her suspicions on any neighbours that were Black, Asian or Arabic.   

She hated them all. 

So while my mother worked, my Auntie educated me on what was wrong with this country and who to blame for the mess we were in. 

I knew of the Brotherhood from the stories Auntie Ellie had told me. 

I decided to join. 

They said I would be accepted, as long as I passed a test. I arrived at the location with three Molotov cocktails.  It was an everyday corner store, a place I would have gone into any other day.  But it was owned and run by Asians.

I lit the first of the cocktails and took my first step in making the world right again.