"Dashing through the woods panting as I go with the overwhelmingly bright lights and wet brush adding to my disturbances, I was furious to escape!My somewhat persistent pursuers was the only thing I remember clearly of that night, I know nothing of who was involved in the gruesome act of terrorism" I explained to the officer interrogating me, I was just a helpless innocent bystander trying not to be collateral damage I stated. He looked at me with a very grim expression after hearing what I had to say as if he was not even close to believing my explanation. One ought to believe that as a teenager who obviously barely escaped from a gruesome act of terrorism I would have gained the access to some sympathy but this man had no sense of empathy. I figured that my integrity was above this level but so much was not so. He paced around the room as if generating another question from his host of arguable arguments, at this time I was focused on going home and far from around this cold steel table and far from the perplexing of the blinding lights which came from the var cameras, it was just too much to comprehend all at once,frustrating like nothing else I encountered throughout my lifetime. He came to a sudden halt and leaned forward dead eyed staring at me scanning with his cold dark pupils every molecule of face matter I had, I'm certain he would never forget this face as long as he doesn't get cursed with amnesia or its cousins then the words that came ringing out from his mouth boomed through every inch of the very ear canals I had "YOUR PIGMENTATION IS A CURSE,YOUR MELANIN IS UNBEARABLE AND YOU DON'T BELONG IN THE LAND OF THE STRONG!", it almost splintered my humanity and my eyes watered as it stroke my mind, what is the definition of strong by this man? where I come from the only the fittest of the fittest survive to be in a place like the outside of these very walls!. Though it puzzled me I dared not to speak those words! and I only stood in a non preferred mental state praying for the end of this antagonizing excuse for an interrogation to end. At no point throughout that session did I loose neither my sanity nor my hope as I knew the truth that I spoke was embedded both in my heart and my widely desired conscience so there I sat for the next three consecutive hours until my lucky change of fate came and I was released to go home. It was only at that point of my life that I realised they will never treat us as equals if we allow them to treat us otherwise.
YOU ARE READING
Officer Chavaunist
Short StoryA short story of a young black male who was unfortunate enough to be at a local grocery store at a late hour which was paraded by unscrupulous terrorists, relaying his "side of the story" to a overly exaggerated patriotic officer of the law,but he w...
