Ebony's Journey, Macarevhic's Story

Chapter 34 (Ebony)

Wow, he has quite a past. "You killed two people?" I ask. I'm not scared of him, because I see that regret and guilt fill his eyes. "Yes, one by accident and the other was because I had to." he tells me. I hug him once more. This is the best thing for the both of us right now.

"Macarevhic I love you too, and you are a wonderful person. Even though you have a difficult past you always see the bright side of things. You have a beautiful soul. Have a good tour." I walk him to the door.

He bends down and gives me a long goodbye kiss. A passionate one. One that tells me he won't stop thinking about me while he's gone. I know I won't stop thinking about him. "Think about me Ebony." he tells me. I shake my head yes. I close the door. Ivory walks over and hug me. I try to keep my tears at bay.

Life has been good. My family is getting along much better. We are happy. Sherese and I friendship feels stronger than ever. I visited Arod again, and he looks as if he's going on out. I feel bad for him. Arod could have had a future but he threw it away for the streets.

He even told me he regretted it. He regrets everything he ever did. He even asked me to pray for him. It's been weeks since Macarevhic's been gone and it feels as if I have a huge hole in my heart that only he can feel. I wonder how he's doing or what he's doing. I even saw him performing on TV.

He's great I can see he's where he needs to be. I even think a few of his songs are about me. His face book is filled with congratulations. I noticed that his relationship status is still set to in a relationship. Maybe he hasn't had time to change it. Yeah, that's it he is still busy. I put on a pair of dark blue denim shorts, white t-shirt, that says: "Yeah I'm Cute So What!" on the front, and I put on my black Jordans.

I'm going to "My Black Freedom." I wrote a poem and I want to recite it. It's my first time going without Macarevhic. I knock on my parents' bedroom door. "Come in," my dad calls. I go in; they are sitting on the bed laughing at an Martin Lawrence and Will Smith movie. "Hey, I'm out. I'll be back." "Where are you going?" mama asks. "To this poetry club in the old neighborhood." Mama looks at me weird. "I didn't know you were into poetry." she says. "Yeah, well a little bit." "Can we come? I would love to hear your poem."

I arch my eye brow at them "You sure?" "Yeah. Come on." daddy says grabbing his car keys off of the night stand. We walk into the poetry club and take a seat on a yellow and red sofa. People are watching a young black woman on stage, with a mini afro.

"I as a woman refuse to lower my standards to get a "man." I am a woman that refuses to not feed my kids or have them wear raggedy clothes, so I can have new outfit for the club. I as a woman refuse to chase after my baby daddy. I am a woman that refuses to neglect my kids. What I will do as a woman is to make sure my kids have a roof over their head an food in their moths. I as a woman that will finish college to give my kids a better life. I am a woman that will be the best me I can be. I am a woman, a strong black woman, and I will make it in this world. Thank you."

We all snap our fingers. "Okay, coming up next to the stage is a young sister. She's new here and she has something she wants to share. Please welcome to the stage, Ebony Monroe!" The owner introduces me. I get up and I walk on stage. I look out in the dimly lit crowd. I am so nervous. I clear my throat and I take a deep breathe.

"A soul you once was is no longer more. Your soul was what you've never dreamed of. Anger was what you've become, and it rotted your soul away. Your soul is the color red to represent all of the evil you have done. How I do feel a little sorry for your soul. For it will have to pay for all of the wrong you have done."

The place fills with snaps, for me. I exit off of the stage feeling relieved. Mom hugs me, "You did a good job baby. Who did you right that poem for?" I shrug my shoulders. "No one, it's just a poem." I lie. Soon after, I buy all of us each a cinnamon bun, and some coffee.

When I bite into my cinnamon bun it doesn't tastes as good as it used to. Then Macarevhic pops into my head. I really miss him. Time heal all wounds. Two weeks later I'm sitting in a church. Arod passed away in the hospital. I wasn't shocked about it. He was dying slowly anyway. I think he knew he wasn't gonna make it.

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