March 13,1943. The worst day of my life. I was 13 years old. We was at the court of Seals. It was the 3rd time we were in the court in 2 months. My father was in jail for 7 and a half months. The jury was in their room for about 30 minutes now and I couldn't take it anymore. How Long Do They Need To Think? My palms were sweatier than tons of people in a sauna. I was starting to get a split headache. I thought my head was gonna crack. Then, they all came out, 1 by 1. They all sat down except for one rather smart looking fellow. He had one index card in his hand.
"Your Honor..." the man said. "we find the defendant, James Howard, Guilty and sentenced to DEATH.
My heart dropped as I watched my father fall to the ground in tears. My Mother burst out screaming while in tears as she rushed to my Dad with me.
"I LOVE YOU!!" my mother stammered as much as she possibly could while pulling my Father over for one last kiss. The cops put rusted iron hand cuffs on him and pulled him away through the corridor.
"I LOVE YOU SON! DON'T EVER FORGET ME!" my Father said as his eyes turned red from all the tears.
And all this because 2 white men killed my old white neighbor. On top of that pain I already felt, two weeks later they found the men. But my Father was already gone.
"Now, I'm sitting here, 27 years old, wondering how you cops can stand there saying that my Father, James Howard, could have sent me that box with a severed hand in it." I explained while bursting into tears and walking out of the room.
YOU ARE READING
The Color Doesn't Matter...
RomanceDon't Judge a book by it's cover they say.... But they continue to judge a Human by their skin. This has finally pulled that last little straw right out of my cup because I'm completely sick of it now. I also have a lot more books on my story bird a...
