Surviving The Blues

13

I can barely sit straight. I just want to get through the day so I can run home and check my scores. From the moment I took the test more than a week ago, I've been dying inside to learn my score. I need at least a 1200. That'll put me on the map to be able to apply to just about any school and have a fair chance. Sure, people might say, don't worry, you have affirmative action, but that alone doesn't get you into any school. You still need quality and quantity.

Besides, I don't want to get into a school just because of my gender or race. I want to get in because I am better than everyone else. I've worked harder than anyone else. I've kept my grades high no matter the circumstances. I've joined several different clubs, volunteered a select number of hours, hell, my father even sent me to the Caribbean my freshman and sophomore year summer to intern at a doctor's office owned by the lady who birthed me sister. During the summer before my senior year , I got a job working at a youth center. That led to the incident.

I keep looking at my phone. Sure I could just log in and check it, but I prefer to do it at home. That way I am prepared for any surprises. After practice, it's just home bound. This is probably the most positive reaction emotion I've felt in a while. What do I mean by that? I mean that I am nervous for a normal reason.

I am zoning out, my foot bouncing anxiously. What if I got a bad score? What if my score was influenced by the incident? What if-

I am immediately snapped out of it. The desk of my classmates scrapping against the floor. What's going on? Class isn't over and yet people are rushing out of the class.

"Class!" The teacher calls. "You aren't dismissed." She tries, but gives up.

I am still sitting, confused. I can see from the looks of the hallway it isn't just my class. It's all of the classes. I am the only one left in the class. I am beyond confused.

"Aren't you going to go too? I would assume you would go." The teacher says.

"What?" I scrunch my eyebrows together. "Go where?"

"There's a walk out." She says as if it is something I should know.

"Why is there a walk out?" I ask. I know walk outs happen at this school. They did one to try and show their support for gun control.

"I thought you of all people would know." She looks at me weirdly and I give a confused look. "The last police officer in the South Bronx shooting was cleared in the investigation. He was reinstated today." She says. There it is. The feeling. My heart beat is speeding up. "Are you not going to go? You aren't impressing me by staying back if that's what you think." She says.

I am blocking her out. I get up. I start to walk out the room. I am lost. It's coming back to me in pieces.

The flashback of walking home from the youth center with Christopher and Titus. We had a later night that night because there was a party. The sun had just set and they decided to walk with me. Titus lived in the building right across from me and Christopher a block over.

"How they do it at your white school?" Titus asked.

"Figure it would go lot like this." Christopher intimated a very bad, almost not identifiable Milly Rock.

Titus laughed at Christopher's Milly Rock. "Nah nigga, like this." Titus does a disfigured dance.

"You both are incorrect." I said to them.

"Ight, show us then." Christopher said.

"She ain't 'bout it." Titus shook his head.

Titus and I had history. He use to live in that two bedroom apartment with the thirteen people in it. You know, where I was born. In fact, he still lived there. We were both born in the same month. I was first though. We grew up in the same apartment up until we were five.

We both grew up around drugs, guns, knives and gangs. Even though thirteen people lived in the apartment, other people would occasionally come in and out of the apartment. There were always new faces. My dad moved me out. Titus' mom didn't do the same for him.

Our relationship was complicated. Though we played together and were alway pushed together, he treated me like he didn't like me. Even when I moved houses though, he would be there at school to warn people away from me, yet harass me himself.

When I went to the new school, I didn't see him as much. It wasn't until the youth center that I actually really spoke to him again. Things didn't change.

I wanted to prove him wrong. Titus' mean, mocking nature towards me motivated me to demonstrate my interpretation of the Milly Rock at my school.

Christopher laughed. "Nah, too much cred." He said.

"I ain't think you was gon do it." Titus said.

"Would you stop acting like you know me?"

"I know you Faye. You know I know you." He said.

"You don't." We were arguing, Christopher laughing and clapping his hands like someone exaggerating their laughing.

Right then, it happened. A cop jeep going the other way turned around. They flash their lights and turned on their sirens. They stopped right in front of us.

"Stop right there." They said through their speaker.

"These fucking dick riders." Titus said and I looked over at him.

"Don't say that." I turned to look at him.

"They always doing this shit." Christopher said.

"What's going on here?" Two white male cops get out of their van.

"Where you guys headed to?" The other officer asked.

"Home. You guys have a problem with that?" Titus said.

"Watch your tone. I need to see some ID." One of the guys said.

"For what bro? We not doing nothing but walking."

"We need some ID." The other one said.

"For what? For what?" Titus didn't increase his tone, but I could tell he was getting heated.

"Just give them what they want I tell him." I told him lowly.

"Yeah bro." Christopher said. He too could see that their hands were on their guns. It didn't help that both Chris and Titus were dressed in typical males wear. They were both sagging with white t-shirts on.

"Nah, we not doing shit. I know my rights. They can't do this unless they detaining us. We ain't do nothing, they can't do that."

"I am going to have to take you in then."

"Faith." Someone shakes me. "Faith!" The person shakes me again. "Calm down." Both the person's hands are on my shoulder.

"Is she okay?" Another voice asks.

"How should I know?" The other replies.

"Faith. Can you hear me? It's okay. You are okay."

"Just give him your ID Titus." I blurt out. I blink my eyes and gasp. My breathing is fast and heavy. I am tearing up. I don't even know where I am or where I wondered to. I am trying to catch my breath. "Just..." I fade off. My body goes limp and I start to fall to the floor.

"Woah." The person grabs my arms holding me up. "Faith, it's Noah and Luke. Are you okay? Why are you just wondering in the street? You almost got hit."

I what?
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Head up for whether you are Christian or not, we are living in the last days. It's really important to really get right with God.

Just a note, you are free to believe what you want, just doing my part.

Purple_sky15 is out. Byeee.