The door
When doors open they let stories pass through them. That's the way it was every day in the guidance and counsellors office. After lunch, Ariella could no longer hold on to this bitterness that now threatened her otherwise calm thoughts.
Tears
These drops hung for their dear lives of her chocolate chin. The only child of Mr Fegarson who on his rural mission adopted her from Ethiopia. She is well known for making heads turn as she absorbed the suns light in this all-white neighbourhood. Middle school had brought her even more to the realization of her “uniqueness”.
Chair
Nothing could support the weight she now carried on her, even as she sat. Her thoughts broke the diamonds of her reasoning and her councillor tried to piece them together.
Tissue.
If you stop the tears from flowing, then the tears will tell the brain that everything is fine.
“What's the problem, Ariella?” the councillor asked as she hands her a piece of tissue paper.
Issue
Ariella processed the question, what could be wrong? Then she sobs as she remembers and tries to speak.
“It's Sophia.” As she says this tears speed down her cheeks dripping down to make water spots on her jeans.
“There there Ariella, just try and tell me what happened,” says her councillor who tilts her head in concern.
“Sophia is always mean to me and I have never done anything wrong to her. She's always picking on me. All I want to do is to be like everyone else but everyone…” now her crying is more vocal than it has been before.
Understanding
“Everyone, What do you mean everyone?” asked the now intrigued councillor.
“Everyone treats me different. Well, I'm different so, figures… but I'm just like them.”
“Are you?”
These words raise her chin to examine if they were imagined or heard.
“What?” Ariella asked in an almost inaudible tone.
These rare interactions with people of colour come to the councillor's mind. In her college days, she once had to comfort her only black colleague. All I had to say was— being black made you special, in a way that made it a compliment and I was fine, she thought.
“Being black makes you, you know, special,” she says.
“How?” Ariella asked in a manner so suspicious.
They were brought in ships to America before they brought them here they were somewhere hunting. Hunting with their skin and hair that made it easier for them to hide in the shade. God made them able to hunt lions. Such a wonderful built.
“You are strong beyond all measure dear. that's… that's the way of your people.”
“My people!?” Ariella exclaims. Surely she's not talking about my family at home, Ariella thought.
“Your people at home, in Africa. You see Ariella you are…”
Heritage
“In Africa!?” a thought Ariella has never had to confront. Her voice is loud as she exclaims.
“You see Ariella,” she says as she gets up from her seat.
“Your people are one of a kind, you are strong physically, you can fight anyone or anything if you wanted to, your people fought lions, do you know that?”
As she says this she walks across the table and puts her palms on Ariella's armrest as she looks at Ariella in her moist eyes and says “don't you ever forget that you are from the jungle, you are invisible and invincible!”
Rebirth
Is it when the larva breaks out of its cocoon is that it becomes the colourful creature that carries with it pollen to the next flower or does the beautiful butterfly possess within it the ability to be destructive? Ariella a beautifully destructive butterfly.
As blood flows into her wings she may fly where the wind takes her or she may avoid the wind every day of her life. Fighting to survive the less physical and more psychological world where to fight is to stop the fight within and accept that those who are around us shouldn't be responsible for what we make of life.
She may never see herself as a butterfly haven grown up with dragonflies. The butterflies will be “from the jungle” as she was told. In her few interactions with butterflies, she won't be able to help but ask, why do they fly the way they do?
Accept
So her people aren't really her people, she grew up different and is more evolved than that jungle where apes and gorillas point guns at each other, #black-live-dont-matter, how can they when gang violence is prevalent. She shakes her head as she thinks— these people are animals.
To prove this she studies the Africans in Africa and her acidic red litmus comes out of the test tube. Look at how they run their governance, surely they are animals. But I am no animal, I am better than them.
What she doesn't realise, or doesn't want to realise is what so many don't. That she just like all the others have been fools from the beginning, tools to purposeful and purposeless hate.
In her sentences, she sentences to death those of colour. Their shining examples are drug dealers who made it out of the drug game. If you walk into a store dressed responsibly how can you be looked at that way? It's obviously your fault for sagging your trousers, with tattoos all over your body. You deserve a knee to your neck for 8 minutes and 42 seconds. Poor police officer.
She is a wolf among sheep. She becomes and accepts her crown as the Queen Coon. The Anti-N****r amongst N****rs and a less privileged achiever among the whites.
This an original work by @ebingo 30/6/2020
I love learning about the American culture and it takes control of my writing most times.
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Interesting story @ebingo. It's very challenging to address the issues of race and identity, and our society today is struggling. Fiction is a good way to examine the issues from many angles.
Thank you very much.
I feel blessed to have you read my work.
Guy you good o.. i was watching one of chris rock's comedy and he was like do you know who hates black people more than white people? The black people.
Your story dope like that ..
Thanks, thanks. I just dey do weitn literate people dey do.
Read and write.
I don't see it necessarily as hatred.
We all disagree with most of the things our own ancestors did in the past. And if someone today, even our closest relatives were to act that way, we would generally try to prevent it.
It's only mature.
Other than that I thank you for writing such thought provoking essay. I enjoyed it.
I'm glad you did.
I totally understand that there are many views to this thing.
Trying to prevent it is a step in the right direction.
Thanks for the thought.