What are you following me for? - TRAYVON MARTIN - February 26th 2012
At seven forty-one, Mars Philip walked into Stephan's MiniMart. He held a bag in his hand. It was a small plastic bag; and in it was his mother's purse.
Milk; he needed milk. And then anything else he could afford with the five dollars his mother had given him. After picking a carton, he walked through the candy aisle deliberately. He ran a finger over the Warheads, peered at the flavours of Haribos then stopped when he spotted the Reeses. They were his brothers favourite, and with how sick he had been recently, Mars thought Carson deserved a treat.
So he picked them up. As he did, further down the aisle, a pack of chips fell to the floor. He looked over into the eyes of Jamie Bridge. Mars smiled. For Mars was a happy boy and thought it always necessary to share a little love.
Then Mars wandered a little more. Strolling through the sodas, sniffing all the little candles on sale. It was when he stood up from smelling a candle, he noticed Jamie Bridge at the end of the aisle again. His arms were folded. His face not a pleasant one. Mars wasn't stupid.
"What are you following me for?" He asked, trying to keep the Harlem out his voice. Jamie didn't answer; instead he turned silently and exited the Mart. Mars watched him, puzzled, then muttered a couple words: "those fucking racists."
Mars paid.
