The Black Girl

There really wasn't any stopping it. It wasn't my fault that my skin was as dark as the night, or my nose was broader than any other's, my hair was always rough looking and broke easily. There was nothing I could do, because to them I will and always will be, the black girl. HR: #3 Short Story Graphic by caesium-

Tragic

The woodman family was living there life to the fullest, until Mr. Woodman, the father, died from a major heart attack. The younger daughter Marie had a great connection with her dad, so his death left her feeling sad, and depressed. She couldn't take the pain anymore so she packed some food, water, money, and a photo...