Boycotting Blue

Prologue: Blue

Blue

 

 

"Half-breed," I growled underneath my breath, checking myself out in the mirror. I knew the word like the back of my hand; it had been engraved in my mind since I was younger. They didn't accept me in America because I was "too Mexican" despite being from Puerto Rico; and my Puerto Rican family shunned me for my gringo side. I was supposed to either love American football, or love futbol. But not both. I couldn't dare dabble in either sport without being "too" much anything. So I had switched sports altogether and moved to balconcesta, basketball.

    I jumped, grabbing the edge of the rim with my hand and hanging. Sweat poured down my forehead. The night sky didn't prove to bring any cooler weather with it. In fact, it only hid the pesky mosquitoes and allowed the moon to light up the basketball court in my Tio's backyard.

    I took a deep breath and let myself fall back to the ground. The basketball rested at my feet, teasing me. Half-breed, it growled, you'll never fit in with those people. You'll never good enough to make it anywhere. Those tattoos aren't a story; they're a curse. You'll never work anywhere but on the streets. Forget hoop dreams, you'll be happy to make it through this year alive.

   I grimaced, rearing back and kicking the ball.

   You can kick me all you want to, but it doesn't change a thing. 1/3 of all boys that come from juvie end up back in a state or federal prison. 2/3 end up back in juvie.

   "Yeah, but some don't."

    You know what makes those that don't special? Money. Something you don't have. Unless you start selling again. C'mon, what's the big deal, it seemed to shout at me as it disappeared in my neighbor's yard. You know where Rodriguez is-only a call away. And those rich kids? They love drugs. C'mon.

   "No," I argued, feeling insane.

    I needed to sleep, but sleep wouldn't come without bad dreams. I was afraid to look in the mirror incase I caught a glimpse of those "curses" that I had inked all over my body. The bags under my eyes had to be hideous, if only they looked half as bad as I felt. I collapsed on the ground, breathing heavy. The goal stared down at me, laughing.

   You piece of shit, it taunted. Half-breed.

    I slammed my fist on the cement, fighting the demons within me. "Fuck!" I screamed as pain shot through my thumb and up my arm. It throbbed for a few seconds before the pain faded. There would be so sleep tonight. Or the next night. Or the night after that.

   I stared at the stars, the black sky, and the blacker night. I swore again.

    When would it end?

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