Kinyume - an Interracial Justin Bieber Fanfiction (BWWM)

Kutoa Na Kupokea - Give and Don't Receive

Kutoa Na Kupokea means To Give and Not Receive in the sweet Swahili language.

You guys are the BOMB! I mean 500+ reads already?!

I'm so happy you guys like my story and give me your input either on here or on Twitter!

Thank you to all the ones who've taken their priceless time to read, vote, or comment on my story! THANK YOU SO MUCH!

But back to business. So, there's been some confusion as to if Marcel is Justin but looks like Harry Styles. Btw he's bae #2, but that's all Bedtime Stories so let me not lol 😂

NO. Marcel is just a character played by real life Harry Styles but he doesn't know Harry or associate with him at all in this fanfic. Get it?

So no, Marcel is not Justin, Justin is Justin, and he will maybe be making an appearance in this chapter. Who knows? 😏 I'm not telling though, you'll just have to read to find out. 🌚

Also Anana's name is not pronounced, Aynahnah, but Ahnahnah. Try saying it in a thick African or Caribbean accent, it will sound so fresh. 😂😩

Also if you wanna, sneak a peek at the side and see another dread-head mama. Her hair and skin complexion is life. 😍

" " is someone speaking.

' ' is someone thinking, thoughts.

"I don't stand for the black man's side, I don' t stand for the white man's side. I stand for God's side."

- Bob Marley

Anana is Swahili for soft and gentle. :)

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Justin but I will soon. Just wait on it. 🙌🌚

-

My hands were sweating profusely as I held the house phone, dialing those 3 numbers as quick as I could with small fingers.

My whole body was trembling tremendously, blinking like a maniac even though I was completely surrounded by darkness. My only source of light was the lime green screen from the telephone that read "911" in bold black print.

Swiftly placing the phone over my ear, I closed my eyes and prayed to a GOD I didn't know personally but heard of off gospel channels that I would surf through everyday after school.

'Please. Whoever you are. Let this be the last time. Her body can take more bruises but her soul cannot. Please.'

I whimpered loudly when I heard her muffled shriek of agony, his gruff raged voice echoing throughout the whole house like a stereo system.

"Why do you keep lying Effie? Why did you go there!? Answer me you trifling hoe! I saw the pictures!"

The grip I had on the phone tightened to the extreme when I heard a loud bop sound bounce off the walls, a weak woman's cries accompanying it.

I flinched from hearing it, cringing at the minor thought of how it might feel. Rough, cracked colossal hands that held enough strength to match a brick impacting your passport. Your face.

'Mama. Mamaaa.' I whined internally, my eyelids still locked tight.

My heart skipped a beat and I exhaled deeply when I heard a woman's bored voice on the other line.

"911 oper-" I interrupted quickly, I had no time.

"Pplease!" I begged in a low raspy voice, "Mmy mom! My mom! Come before he kills her! He's killed her numerous times by skin but this time it will be by blood! She cant take any more pain!"