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Critical
Author:
PowerTrip PM
This is a story about Travis Marshall haunted by his dead girlfriend and discovers that her murderer was his middle school crush
Rated: Fiction T - English - Tragedy/Hurt/Comfort - Words: 603 - Reviews: 1 - Published: 12-07-12 - id: 3080918
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White Chocolate Grey

I'm not sure how to exactly start off but from what I've read in the past, it won't be, "Once upon a time." My mama said that was just too artifical. She said I needed something to really caught the reader's attention. But how would she know? Everytime I asked, the same response came from her soft southern tone. It's quite funny actually. I hadn't known anyone who could speak as translucent as mama could with that accent. It usually made now since or was just plain babblin. She was something. We live in Maryland, Virginia. Its nice, serene, simple. But the thing is...we have our own section. By that I mean our "kind". Mama said it was a little separation from bad people. To keep us safe in sound. But the people I've seen was them dark skin folks. Spittin chewed tobacco and playin the harmonica. I even went to school with some of there kids. Rowdy, loud, always cusin, and fightin each other. That only made our "kind" look even more foolish than what was already said. I don't even bother to look their way. I'm studying to become a professional physicist. I figured if I studied hard, worked hard, even played hard enough, I'd make it. Maybe be even work to become something. Unfortunately, I have to tend to other business first. Like taking care of my brother and sister, Felicha and Edwin. They always fightin or shoutin. I'm sort of in the middle of their altercations, frequently. Since I'm the oldest, mama said I have to be more responsible to them. Like hell! They both 15 and 16. Why am I takin care out two nuisances? Shit, if they wanna fight then let'em. Aint my fault if they end up where daddy is. I can't stand the dead bastard either. He passed away when I was 4 years old. Said my mama wasn't gonna end up anywhere but a dumpster or the streets selling her body for food and shelter. Who was he to speak down to her like that? "Aint no bodie gonna bend over backwards for sum rotten kids and their moma. You better off pickin out your tomb stone." My dad really didn't give a damn about us. Decided it was best to leave and run like a coward that her was. Eventually the police got him. Funny part that they thought he was a run-away. Sad part was finding him dead on 's yard. Those officers were vanilla. Racist towards all of us. I remember something on the news about , how she didn't give up her seat to a vanilla. Poor woman was taken into custody right after. I heared rumors that the officers that got her was the ones that got my daddy. I can't stand that either. Why should of dark skin people be punished or treated unfairly cause of the color of our skin? That aint right nor accurate. My mama said its the way some live. The only vanilla skin that ever accepted us was . She's actually koren. But talks like one of them southern rich folks up in the garden. I never actually heard of the accent of a koren folk but maybe one day I will. My bestest friend, Fredrick, says I should be an activist like MLK or Malcom X. But that's not my dream. My dream right now is to feed and treat my family. First I just gotta figure out how.

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