All For Us

Chapter VIII

" A Strange Green Letter"

OPRAH

As I approached my doorstep, I couldn't help but feel the weight of the world on my shoulders.I fumbled through my bag to find my keys, my heart racing as I thought about the confrontation that was about to happen. But as I reached for the doorknob, a nagging thought reminded me that my dads had asked me to get the mail.

With a sigh, I made my way to the mailbox, feeling a sense of dread wash over me. As I opened the small compartment, I was greeted with a flurry of letters - mostly bills and advertisements. But there was one envelope that stood out from the rest. It was an ominous shade of green, and my name was scrawled across the front in shimmering gold ink.

As I entered the house, the familiar scent of home washed over me. I kicked off my shoes and slipped into my Daffy Duck slippers, feeling a sense of comfort wash over me.I made my way to the coffee table to dump the pile of mail, but something about the green envelope made me hesitate.

I turned on some music while I sat on the couch , the melancholic notes of Soundgarden's "Fell on Black Days" filling the room. "I'm home!" I called out in a sing-song voice, trying to hide the dread that was settling in my stomach. But my façade was quickly shattered as I heard the stomping of feet and the sound of angry voices.

My dads were standing in front of me, each with their own distinct emotions etched on their faces. My Hispanic dad, Ramon, looked at me with a sad expression while my Guinean dad, Omar, radiated disappointment and anger. I affectionately call them Papi and Papa, but in this moment, they were anything but affectionate.

"We sent you to school to learn, and you go there and cause trouble!" Papa bellowed, his voice thundering through the living room.

My heart sank as I realized I was in trouble. I could feel my palms growing slick with sweat as I stumbled over my words.

But Papi was quick to interject, placing a gentle hand on Papa's shoulder. "Don't say that, Omar. Let her talk. We don't even know if Perlita is the problem in that case."

With a heavy sigh, Papa sank onto the couch beside me, his arms crossed in frustration. "Okay then, tell us what really happened, Oprah," he said, gesturing for me to speak.

I looked down at my hands, suddenly feeling small and insignificant. My throat felt tight as I tried to form the words, but they wouldn't come out. Finally, I managed to choke out, "I'm sorry, Papi and Papa. I didn't mean to cause any trouble." My voice trembled with emotion as I tried to hold back tears.

Papa's expression softened slightly as he looked at me with a hint of sympathy. "We know you didn't mean to cause trouble, Perlita. But we need to know what happened so we can help you." His words were kind, but the weight of his disappointment still hung heavy in the air.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. The memory of the hallway incident sent shivers down my spine. I had never seen such cruelty before.

"So we were standing in the hallway," I began, my voice shaking slightly. "I was with Petra and Ichem. And then, out of nowhere, this girl came running towards us. She collided with Ichem, and they both fell to the ground. He helped her up, and they exchanged a few words."

My parents listened intently, their expressions grave.

"But then, Courtney and her friends showed up," I continued. "They started harassing the girl, calling her names and breaking her things. And then Courtney... she tried to choke her."