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I sat on the couch reading my books by Shakes Spear. My brothers think I'm a major nerd to be reading these. But I like them. My mom and I had just went to the store to get new shoes. I actually got to pick them out this time, isn't unbelievable?! I got a pair of super white ones that was as comfortable as any other pair of shoes in that store. My older brother Chanston came down the stairs and jumped on the couch. He turned the tv on to the news.
"Momma! Brian! Come 'ear!"
Momma came running from the kitchen still wearing her apron and holding a dish cloth.
"What, oh, what happened now? Tho racist people still on their rage?" She asked.
"Yeh, they already torn down the school. Bombed it howeva," He said, blowing a gust of wind out of his mouth nervously.
"Now, where's Brian? Brian! Get 'own here or you'll miss it all!" She yelled.
Brian came running down the stairs.
"What momma? What happened?"
"Them dumb rednecks torn down their school," She said in disappointment.
"Oh no momma, thats terrible! We have to put an end to 'dis!" He yelled in fury,
"those, those pore kids don't have 'eh school no 'mo 'cause those others don't wanna be in the same building as us! Well hell to them!"
"Brian! Don't you be cursing in this house! No no, we ain't have 'n that hear."
"Sorry momma, its just. Don't you feel the anger in me?!" He yelled with feeling.
"Don't we all baby, don't we all," she said ending with a whisper while she stared into the the black and white tv.
The Man looked disappointed as well.
"Oct 5, 1958. The newly integrated Clinton High School is destroyed by dynamite that most assumed was placed by segregationists. The community is going to have the students back in school in four days at an abandoned elementary school in neighboring Oak Ridge, Tennessee."
"And I was just trying to my book. Good grief!" I mumbled.
"Well at least you got 'dis in your imaginary history pad. I don't wanna have 'n you kids 'fogettin this now," She remarked.
"Well, I'll go check the chicken," she said and headed back to the kitchen.
"Thank God we don't go to that school," Chanston said in relief.
"Hey Chance, wanna go the..our place?" Brian asked.
"Yeh, Terrence don't even ask, your too young. When your bout..i'da know, 15? You may come with us. Sorry bro," Chanston said softly punching my arm.
"See ya Terrence. Bye Mom!" They both said after one another.
"Uh, You better be back soon kids. You especially Chanston!" She said.
Brian grabbed his book bag and headed out the door with Chanston. What did they do over there? Where was there? And why couldn't I come? I hope they ain't gettin in trouble.
1958 in Mississippi was tough for a young black kid. Every white kid out there hated us. Except the love of my life. Well, hopefully love of my life. Her name is Kimberley, she has the most beautiful brown eyes in the world that sparkled in the sunlight. She usually wore Khaki shorts with a sleeveless top. She always carried a book, I've noticed. And her hair was most full of life. It was a beautiful bronze, slightly blond and slightly frizzy. It always had a summer feeling to it.
She was the kindest girl I've ever met. Wasn't ever really allowed to hang out with her. 'Cause her parents are racist. Whenever I pass by them, They look at me like I was some kind of ugly animal or something. They would also move away from me. Her mother always had a smirk on her face, looking to shame on others. And her father looked at us black people like he was afraid of us, he seemed to try to ignore us.
It was hard to get outside on a daily basis because the white boys usually had a baseball game every week at the playground. And thats where I usually go. But if they are playing, I would go into the woods to my creek. I made a trail to get to it. Good Lord, I'm as hungry as the person on the commercial.
I hadn't noticed until then that I was zoned out on my book, not even reading. I decided to stop reading since I haven't even been reading. I folded the page down and set it onto the coffee table in front. Then I looked at the stairs. That got to be the worst place for stairs. The stair were positioned so if someone walked through the front door. And someone was walking down the stairs at the same time.They would smack right into each other. I stood up from the couch and stretched my back.
I walked from the living room to the kitchen. Every time I came into the room I always got that welcoming feeling, that warmth. The counters were as yellow as the daisies in our backyard. Yellow chairs were placed at the dining table.
to be continued...
- by The Love Therapist |
- Fiction
- | Submitted on 07/24/2009 |
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- Title: The Different Ones
- Artist: The Love Therapist
- Description: Its about A black boy who can't really find who he is and can't fit in with the world.
- Date: 07/24/2009
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