Colorblind

Gray

George POV

"Alma put your clothes on." I say quickly not taking my eyes off of my father who is standing in the door red-faced.

"Did you hear me, boy? What are you doing with this swine?" He says as he takes a step closer.

"Alma, are you dressed?" I ask as I cautiously watch my dad making sure he doesn't make any sudden moves.

I don't hear Alma respond so I say "Alma I need you to talk to me. Are you dressed?"

"Y-yes" She stutters back.

"Ok, now I'm gonna need you to do exactly what I say with no questions or hesitation." I say slowly.

"Ok." Alma says.

There is a moment of thick silence between us. We all are watching and waiting. I take a step closer towards my dad preparing for the series of events that are about to unfold.

"Alma go run to the car and lock the door. I will meet you there in a second." I blurt out.

As Alma races for the car, my father rushes towards her and I lunge towards him. I catch a glimpse of Alma as she rushes out the door. Now that I got Alma out, I need to focus on getting out too.

Alam POV

I can't stop my body from trembling as I sit in the front seat waiting for George to come out. As the time ticks by I keep my eyes fixed on the cream-colored dashboard of the car. I am not sure how much time has passed but I hear the front door violently swing open and bang against the cabin. I jump and my eyes dart towards the sound. I see George come flying down the steps and towards the car. I unlock the door before he reaches for door handle. He rips the door open and shuts it in two swift movements. With a shaky hand, he jams the key into the ignition and twists the key causing the car to roar to life. He throws the car into reverse and peels out of the dirt formed driveway. As he floors it away from the cabin I steal a glance in the side mirror. I see his father standing there in the doorway watching us as we drive off. We sit in silence as we enter the highway at top speed. After a few miles, I go to say something but find myself to be tongue-tied and no words come out. I begin to think of words to say, but nothing seems right so I lean my head against the car window instead. I sigh and think about the series of events that just occurred. One second, we are alone in our little love bubble and the other our world comes crashing down. We are up shit creek without a paddle. I mean the way that his father looked at me and then George. I have never seen a face contorted into a venomous kind of disgust. Don't get me wrong, I have spent my whole life being subjected to discriminatory glares from people who find us blacks to be the shit stain that taints the perfect white America. I have come to learn how to turn a blind eye to the glares and allow the snide remarks to fall upon deaf ears. However, this was different. I will never be able to block out the disgust on Georges's father's face when he saw us together; nor will I be able to unhear his sharp venom spewed words. This moment is something that I will never be able to place into words. Maybe this is unforgettable not because of his disgust towards me; I have spent my entire life being hated for being too many shades too dark. Instead, it is the way that he looked at George that I find to be unforgettable. The bitter scowl on his face with judgment in his eyes that resemble the look I believe Jesus gives unrepented sinner before banishing them to the underworld for eternity. I know that sounds dramatic but I don't know any other way to describe it. How could he look at my George like that? This is all of my fault. His father hates him because of me. He doesn't deserve this. It's my fault. Maybe everyone is right; blacks are good for nothing. The only thing we know how to do is ruin everything. I should have never let things get this far. How could I have been so selfish to keep him rather than to let him go? I close my eyes in the hope that it will stop the tears from falling from my eyes and somehow, I drift off to sleep.