C A T C H 22 |BWWM|

Ch. 18 • Voice Unheard

(*This chapter contains sensitive content)

Jackson, MS. November 1943
Tuesday 4:50 pm

Paislee

Walking through the whipping winds and the bitter chill of the air, I made my way into the all-white neighborhood. My book bag was slouched against my shoulders as I caught sight of the house. It was almost like I could hear the kids yelling and screaming from a mile away.

"Good afternoon Miss."

I bowed my head as she opened the door. She simply grimaced and walked past me and out the door.

"I'll be back at normal time," she said.

I walked into the house to see the kids all doing their own thing. Annabelle napping, Stephen and Mikey watching television, and Michelle reading a book. They all mumbled 'hellos' and kept on going on with their lives.

"I'll have apples and peanut butter in the kitchen for y'all," I said, dropping my bag lightly.

"Okay. . . Oh, Ms. M?"

"Yes, Mikey?"

"Our brother Dylan and his friends are coming over," He said.

I nodded and handed him a snack. "That's A-Okay. Thank you for telling me."

I sat at the kitchen table and finished up some homework and wasted time helping the kids out. It had been at least an hour before I heard the door and laughter fill the foyer. I didn't turn around, but instead put away all my school supplies and tidied up the kitchen.

"And who might this be?"

I heard a voice as from behind. It sounded so familiar, but I couldn't put a finger on it.

"I am Pai–"

My breath hitched as four all-to-familiar faces focused on me. The blood from my face drained and I felt my heart drop to my knees. By the look on the boys' faces, I could tell nothing about the next hour would be fun.

"Look who it is. . . Hey, kitten."

One of the brunette boys reached out to stroke my cheek as they cornered me. My instinct grabbed his hands and shoved it away from my face. Causing all of them to burst in laughter.

It was the boys—all four of them—who used to steal my bike. The one who slapped my behind, the one who wanted to hang me with a noose, the one who called me the N-word, and the one who said I was just quick fun. It was terrible and even more terrifying.

"Someone's feisty, huh?" The red-haired boy stepped from the circle and closer to me. I closed my eyes and swallowed the lump in my throat. He was so close to me—too close. "You scared, Kitten?"

"Please don't call me that. All I want to do is just watch the kids. I won't be any bother to y'all, just please let me go do my job." Another set of laughs erupted and I opened my eyes to them spread out. Opening a path for me to walk through. I looked at everyone skeptically and started to step my way through. "T-Thanks."

Just as fast as I was walking past them, I was snatched back. I yelped as I felt someone's chest against my back. His hands were so rough against my skin as he was applying pressure against the nape of my neck.

"Oh don't think that you would just get away. You can't be that stupid, can you?" I didn't answer. My body was too busy from shaking with tremors as he held my neck tighter and called me all types of names. "You can't respond? Do I need to say it slower so your stupid brain can comprehend?"