Did We Die?

Chapter 1: Foreground (Roger's POV)

My mother always told me something. A phrase she decided to let be her last words.

"Vive sin preocupaciones, mi Rogito. Es una gran día para el amor."

It meant "Live with no worries, my little Roger. It's a great day for love."

I saw her pale brown skin turn even paler as she weakened her grip and took her final strained breath, the ruby red rims of her pupil fading to pink as her eyes stood straight up.

I cried "Ma, don't leave me like this!"

A car had to hit her as she was walking home from the grocery store.

I was only fourteen. We lived one of the whitest states of America, of course I didn't want to be alone with my father. He was white, my mother was the only one in the world who understood me.

Asheville, North Carolina isn't the safest of places for people with my skin. We're always looked at, almost never even thought of as human sometimes.

Three years later, they found the person who hit my mother finally, as he was sentenced to prison for other reasons. I'm 17 years old now, I'm a senior in high school and I go to East brook Heights; some random school near my house. There, there are kids with my skin and darker. Maybe a couple that are lighter but they love us, even some of them threaten to marry me. I guess I'm so much of a lady-magnet.

Today, however, exactly three years after my mother was murdered, almost 2 days after the murderer was convicted, I feel mournful. Kids came up to me to hug me without words, they even dapped me up as slow tears came out of my eyes the whole day.

My mother, my saving angel, was gone and they felt like nobody ever has for me.

I'm pretty popular, not so much to were my looks are what keeps me alive, but rather I'm popular to where I'm supported and respected.

I walked into my first period not expecting much but a few pats on the back.

Instead, my teacher, Mr. Maridueña, approached me with a rose.

"Put this on your mom's memorial for me, eh?" He said, patting me on the back whilst I sat down.

"No estás solo." He whispered as he stood up straight and walked back to the front.

"Alright class, today we focus on chapter seven, so please open up your books and let's get out of that senior fever."

Once the class ended, the walked slowly to my second period because I had Ms. Tamika, who was very trashy and uncomfortable to be around.

I walked into the class around two minutes late, as Ms. Tamika opened her mouth to speak, but instead stands up and walks over to hug me.

"It will be okay, sweetheart, take a seat just over there."

This isn't what usually what happens on the anniversary of my mother's death. Maybe it's the fact that my mother's killer was found.

But anyways, the class continued and it was normal, except I was favored.

Walking to period three, the hall staff nodded and noodled at me, letting me know their support.

I waltzed in and sat down at my seat in the back of the class at my counter space, with my teacher, Mr. Lang, nodding with his eyes closed while I looked at him.

My best friend since we were practically babies, Mateo, was in that class. He sat at the same counter as me and we shared all of our work. Mr. Lang and I made a deal; as long as Mateo and I stay focused and do our work, we can sit together for the whole year.

Mateo walked into the class with his bag on the side, and his hat backwards with his fake mullet poking through.

"Mr. Lang?" He spoke. He walked up to Mr. Lang and whispered in his ear. Mr. Lang nodded as Mateo walked over.

"Hey man," he murmured as he dapped me. "How ya' holding up?"

"Better than first period." I muttered under my breath. "Mr. Maridueña comforted me though. That pushed me through."

"Yeah, I know he's your favorite." Mateo whispered. "So, what about Ms. Tamika, what did she say?"

"I don't even remember. She's so awkward."

"Yeah, I get that man."

The class goes on and we both do our work. The lunch bell rings and finally we get to go to lunch.

Mateo and I walked over to the lunch room and get in line to get our lunch, as we walked over to the line, however, I kept getting pats and I got tired of it, so when people put their hands on my shoulder, I would jerk my shoulder away from their hand.

My other friends, Jessie and Lauren both joined us in line.

"Hey guys." Lauren said in her light, sorry feeling voice. "How are you doing today Rodge?"

"I'm okay, laur." I mustered. "Too many pats on the shoulder. I think I'm getting a blister."

"I get that, dude." Jessie collected. "Dude, so many people just don't care about the feeling of fabric rubbing against your skin man," she says, you can obviously tell she's high on marijuana. "Like, it's fucking uncomfortable."

"Dude what are you on?" Mateo yells. "Are you high again?"

"Fuck yeah." she nods silently.

"Wha- Okay dude." Mateo laughs.