The Spoken

Krisilyn

The day of all days had finally arrived. Nothing could ever be so beautiful on any other day. Saturday, the day for everything to happen that was delayed during the week. School had been rough for the past week and I feel it is only right that I use this weekend to gain back consciousness.

My eyes crack open swiftly to the screeching noise outside of my window. I lazily slip out of bed and head straight to the bathroom to shower.

Mom is in the kitchen playing her morning tunes and cooking breakfast. Sometimes I'd rather prefer cereal but, I guess it's good that I can get a hot meal whenever. I slide behind her, glaring over her shoulder, examining the breakfast contents. Grits and eggs. The Basic Breakfast is what I called it. Unfortunately, I have better things to do other than accompany my mom at whatever she's gonna do. Besides, I'm sure she'll be fine. After all, she does keep a lot of "Meat in her fridge".

I walk out of the front door only to encounter a crisp breeze. The sensation knocks me backwards for a moment but, I manage to make it outside. The air is dry on my skin and it's irritating. I would usually call up some friends and we'd all hang out at the neighborhood pool...NO!! I don't want to ever go back there. It's a cold dark place filled with dirty waters. Only drunks and messed up teens hang out there now, but not that night. It was more than just the average everyday groups. My mind goes blank for a minute. The degrading image...so disgusting, so dirty, so...sad. She could have done something. Laying there wasn't an option. The weight suddenly crushes my shoulders. "I...no...please, I..." The words clog up my throat. There was nothing but darkness. Then it hit me. I snap back into reality after almost getting hit by a PT Cruiser. Crazy old people shouldn't be able to drive, it'll make the world a lot safer. Maybe I'll go to the park, soak in some fresh air.

The air is now filled with the sweet smell of grass and weed. It should be a candle smell or air freshener. Only those cracked up hippies would buy it. I sit on a bench nearest to the entrance gate. The sun seems to have gotten hotter than it was when I left. I pull my skully down over my small deep brown eyes. This is going to be longer than expected. I turn to view a group of boys entering the park. I don't know their names but I've seen them plenty of times here. They usually smoke and joke around. The average teen act I assume. But, today is different. They have brought two extra guys. One is short and a little chubby. He almost reminds me of something off of The Wizard of Oz. The other is.... him. That bastard with the heart of coal. I stare as if my eyes can not look in any other direction. He glimpses over, and takes a puff of his blunt. I turn my head quickly in the other direction. Did he see me? Please let me become invisible at this point. I know he can read my fear. I can feel his scaly hands grasping and squeezing at my back. The letters " R.U.N" stapled to my chest and at that moment, I break fast for the gate and dash down the street. I keep running until I get to my street in front of one of the abandoned houses. The yard wreaks of dead corpses from unlucky cats and other animals. I pause. He couldn't have been there...I thought...looking at me with his eyes. The same eyes that watched me that night like a hawk. I could not let this rule me forever. I would never think straight again.

I get home at around 5:30. Mom is in the talking room with some white man. I didn't think she would have the guts to ever talk to another cracker after what my father said. " If you ever feel like you want to bring my goddamn child around some cracker, so help me God I will fucking kill you!" he said. That's the reason why he's in jail now. He is responsible for the murder of 12 Caucasians. Each one owed him money and did not make the payment on time. So he took them out. I'll stand behind my father any day because he's the type to fight for his own. That makes him the parent any black child would dream of having. I walk through the door and my mom quickly hops up and invites me to come meet our new neighbor. We haven't had new neighbors in 2 years. The last people who stayed next door left the same night they moved in. Let's just say that our kind does not take white neighbors to kindly. We only have one white neighbor on this block , Mr. Diynick. No one bothers him because he's a crazy rednecked cracker with four shotguns, a desert eagle, and two pitbulls. Not to mention, he also spends most of his days drinking something he can get his mouth own. He's a walking bar. Not even crackheads have the balls to climb through his windows. " Krysilyn, this here is Mr. Mizheli. He's our new neighbor. Say hello." She has clearly lost her mind. Bringing that guy in here. I try to imagine what my father would do if he saw this. The image of my mom being "Bitch-slapped" and this guy getting dressed through the concrete by legs enlightens me. I just smile and head straight to my room. I pull out a small red and white tablet then write:

Note to Self:

1) Hire crackhead to break in his house.

2) Get mom out of the country before dad gets out (if he ever does).

I doodle out a small smiley face and fall asleep.