Colors

Chapter 2 : An introduction.

Let's get into it!!

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Oh, how rude of me, please allow me to introduce myself. Usually, I avoid talking to people about my name, but for context, my mother's mother is the reason I'm of Haitian descent and yes I call her the mother of my mother. I do so simply because even though she is biologically my grandmother I denounced her as such. Let me enlighten you of why, when my parents were younger they had me out of wedlock then eloped but that wasn't the problem. The problem lies on that traumatizing day. The day I took my first breath and my mother her last. I was a dirty thief, stealing away my mother's life from right under her. If I could I would've given it back, honestly why haven't I yet is the real question. That being said, before my mother passed she left me with only one thing. My name, Aerabella Fabienne Samira Chano-- Chano being my last name-- and with no guarantee of a love.

After that fateful day I had one of those sob story childhoods. My father created a new life for himself after announcing he wanted nothing to do with me because he 'didn't have time' for someone like me. Honestly I can't expect much of my white father. Why would he want a dark baby that reminds him of the woman that he had to settle for because none of the other ladies wanted a broke man like him. On the other hand, my mother's mother was a different story entirely. She wanted a pale male grandchild and I was neither of those things. The only plus side is I inherited my fathers dirty blonde hair.

Now, I know what you're thinking, but I'm obviously not white and my curls are too coily. Too unruly to be beautiful, it's more of a distraction, much like my other unchangeable qualities. I often wish that I had the white haired consistency, maybe then I wouldn't be called ugly. Maybe then I could at least have one compliment in my life. Although I highly doubt that If i was complimented in that way that it wouldn't be back handed. Growing up where and how I did will teach you many things. Like wishing you were someone else that could just blend in or lose the things that make you, you. If I said I never wished to be a beautiful barbie then I'd be a liar.

I'm sure you know of the barbies, the american dolls, the polly pockets of the world. Do you know what they all have in common? Majority of them are all white. Some are even specifically white, blonde haired, and blue eyed girls with voices like silk and faces of porcelain. Not a blemish or scar in sight, heck, even their freckles look perfect. As a child, I'd often look at them and wonder to myself, ' Maybe.. If I looked like her... then I'd be beautiful' or '..could my hair really be that straight, my eyes really that.. blue?' . Honestly, I'd like to ask the American Beauty standards if I was ugly.
Am I ugly for having a bigger nose, bigger lips, a bigger forehead and of course they'd be saying no but in their minds they'd be saying " Yes. Yes little black girl, you are ugly " and if you asked them why they'd say, " Because You're not like me, unfact you're less than me'' . Oftentimes you learn that asking why is a definite way of admitting defeat and showing weakness. To not know where you stand in this world is how you die and I frankly, don't want to leave this miserable earth before I have the last say.

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To be honest, I was a little anxious about putting in that last paragraph because of how explicit it is. I kept contemplating whether or not I should add it, but in the end I did 😭...

..Also, Wattpad wanted me to commit war crimes apparently bc why did it delete EVERYTHING I WROTE DOWN? 😃591 words LOST but thankfully I had pasted it somewhere else to edit it more right before or else I would've just given up hahaha.