Ebony Meets Ivory

Ch. 1

(Isabella's POV)

          My feet pound the pavement. Dig in. Dig in. My heart beats hard in my chest. The sun is blazing above the abandoned street and sweat drips from my hair down my back. I don't know how long I've been running and I'm far from my side of the City. My shoes came undone a while back and I can't stop to tie them. I'm being chased.

          "We're gonna get you T- Girl!" A girl shouts, "And it won't be pretty when we do!" Don't turn around, I think to myself. Keep running!

          I've reached the edge of town. Ahead there is a highway long unused and crumbling, and beyond that wild cornfields and valleys. This is land that only the Unwanted would venture to. I mean, if you're perfect for the City, why run right? Well I'm running.

          I'm starting to seriously feel like I can't go on when I make it to the bridge and I'm halfway across and- "Fuck!" I gasp. I tripped over my shoelace. I hear heavy footfalls getting very close and I start to get up, but it's too late and they're right there. On my knees, looking at the cracked asphalt beneath me, I see several shadows surrounding me.

A deep voice hoots with joy and I hear a shuffle. The next thing I know I've been kicked in the ribs and I roll over onto my side and hug my knees to my chest.

          "Get up T-Girl, and let us see you," says a large man with a maniacal grin, I assume the leader of the gang and the one who kicked me. I grit my teeth, steel myself, and pick my body up from the ground. I muster up my most defiant smile and I flip my hair over my shoulder, dripping in sarcasm.

          Bad decision. The man, standing taller even than my six foot stature, cocks his arm back and backhands me across the face. Hard. My head spins and I fall again.

          "I said get up T-Girl... And let us see you," he says louder, his grin gone, giving way for a menacing glare. The men, women, boys, and girls in the gang howl with laughter, like savage animals. I taste blood.

          This time I get up slowly, standing tall, and I look him directly in the face. A thin sheen of sweat coats his upper lip and more drips down from his hairline. He stares back at me, looking me up and down, and he starts to smile. "You know, you're kinda hot for a T-Girl; Bitchy attitude, though. But you'll have to do." He chuckles and his cronies follow suit.

          I spit a mouth full of blood and saliva into his face, and in a flash he's enraged and pressing a knife into my neck. His followers step up closer and they push me back against the dilapidated fence at the edge of the bridge. This portion of the fence is very weak and I'm bent back, leaning over another road far below. Don't look down.

          The man stands so that I'm between his legs and he's leaning over me, the knife still digging into my windpipe, but hopefully not yet cutting. "Aah, now that's better, isn't it? Nice and comfy?" He croons into my ear. He reeks of booze.

          "My family will find you and you will be sorry," I growl. A girl with choppy brown hair just behind the man laughs sharply and says, "We know about you, T-Girl. You ain't got nobody. No one will save you, faggot. You're an Unwanted." She grins and flashes a knife of her own.

          "Now let's see what she's like, huh?" The boy shouts and they all scream in their twisted bliss. He draws the tip of his knife down from my throat to my chest, and with a flick of his wrist he slices open the top of my tank-top, revealing my bra and breasts. "Hmm," he purrs, "They're not very big, are they?"

          Don't cry, I tell myself. Don't let them see you cry. Don't let them take your pride. Don't let them break you.

          " Now let's see what she has down there," the girl says in cruel anticipation.

          The man looks at her and nods. His attention back on  me, he brings the knife down to my waist and I hold my breath as he passes his blade over the button of my blue jeans.

          Suddenly a gunshot rings out and I duck. The group becomes frenzied and their leader calls, "Clear out!" I curl up on the ground as more gunshots disrupt the silence and the gang disperses back in the direction they came from.

          I stay there on the ground wondering where the shots are coming from and thinking to myself this would be a good way to die. What a sad thought. Guns with bullets were outlawed in the City years before I was born, among many other things. I lie still and do a mental assessment of the damage. My ribs are badly bruised and it hurts to breathe. My eye has swelled a bit and when I touch my tongue to the corner of my lip I taste blood. My palms and knees are scraped up, jeans torn worse.

          It's really not that bad. They've tried to attack me many times and this was the first time they caught me. I expected worse. Thankfully I've always been fast. If only I had tied my shoes tighter.

          I jump at the sound of a soft, deep, pleasant voice asking, "Are you hurt? Did they hurt you?!" The voice is so beautiful and full of concern that it calms my racing heart.

          I open my eyes and look up slowly to see the most beautiful boy I've ever seen looking down at me. My breath catches in my throat.

          He smiles, teeth flashing in stark contrast to his dark skin, cheeks dimpled. "Hi, I'm Ja'Quai."