For Shelly -- your beautiful just the way you are.

Colour

Hot, salty tears flowed down the side of her cheeks as she hugged herself, trembling with fear and sheer agony. Her stomach let out a low, hungry growl but it was only answered by her sobs as she clutched her knees to her chest, afraid of everyone and everything. She hadn't eaten since the day before, but she no longer cared about her health. She pressed her back into the hard brick wall and closed her eyes, wishing the tears would stop. They were a sign of her weakness, a sign that she had human feelings and nature. Her fingers quivered violently as she tried to pull herself up off the toilet floor, but her body wouldn't budge as the tremors of sadness wrecked her body, the waves of emotion surging through her. Brushing a hand through her hair, she tried to regain control of her emotions.

Hey, blackhead, watch where you're going. You might bowl someone over.

Voices penetrated her carefully constructed wall; breaking down every barrier she'd ever created to protect herself from their taunting. They echoed again and again, filling the empty space in her head where her thoughts were supposed to go. She couldn't think, speak or move – her very being was devastated with the new ammunition her peers had used against her. Words of loathing and cruelty spun around her, repeating themselves over and over again until she wasn't sure where she was anymore. Numb and cold, she opened her mouth, to tell them to stop, but nothing came out. She stayed silent for a few long, tedious moments before letting out a pathetic mewl. It was the only sound she was able to make as the soul-destroying insults crashed around her.

Shut up! No one cares about what you think. Why don't you just do everyone a favour and go die in a hole somewhere?

What had she done to deserve such treatment, she wondered sullenly. Their behaviour only caused her to be bitterer, less like a real human being everyday. She was more like a robot, a lifeless, soulless machine. She smiled when told, ate when she remembered and did everything in an anaesthetized state. Her voice was frozen, anything she wished to say was pushed back by degrading snickers from everyone around her. The select few who knew her well enough to know that it affected her worried about her, asking her countless times everyday if she wanted to talk about it. But talking about it solved nothing, she knew this by now. Crying was senseless, and useless. She didn't need to, but she always ended up in tears anyway.

Why are you so ugly? Holy shit, it hurts to look at you.

Alone, she shivered at the word. Nobody else seemed to be going through the same thing; no one knew what to do. She refused to let them win, though. Even after years of emotionally crippling verbal abuse, her pride always won out. Weakness was not something she let on about, it was a feeling she hated and despised being pitied with everything she had. Savagely, she tugged at her hair and glared at the opposite wall. Why was she so different from everyone else? So she thought differently, acted differently and had a different shade of skin. So what?! She wanted to scream. But her voice was paralysed, no matter how much she tried, she always ended up with her head down and her mouth shut. Speaking up for herself was in the past, because things only got worse after that.

I refuse to be around you, go sit somewhere else you little mole. Go sit with the others of your kind.

With great effort, she heaved herself from the tiled floor and dragged herself over to the provided mirrors. She cringed at her very reflection. Eyes – dark, brooding and always filled with a pain that hurt to be seen. Skin – like her eyes, dark. She had clean, clear skin and no abnormalities marring her features, she simply wasn't light-coloured like most of her peers. Face – covered by a fringe of hair, she hid behind her curtain of black silk like her shield. Her fringe was her protection from cold, laughing eyes – always waiting for her to trip or stuff up with something in class. She dabbed some freezing cold water on her hot, burning face and shook her head to rid herself of plaguing thoughts.

"Get out of my way!" a thin, short blonde girl shoved her to the side so she could do her make-up. The blonde looked at her and giggled. "Isn't your name like, Beatrice or something?" her sneering eyes narrowed as she took in her skin, eyes and hair.

"No," she replied, shaking her head. Her gaze never left the floor. "It's Debra."

"Whatever." The blonde scoffed, "I don't care, now move it."

"I'm sorry."

"You better be." The blonde sneered; her top lip was curled back nastily. "Your that girl who always sits in the back of my English class." Her eyes watered as she prepared herself for another verbal beating. Would the girl hit her? Would she stomp her face until the blood was the only colour she could see? "Oh my god, your such a freak." The blonde spat, her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Why do they even let people like you go to this school? God knows you can't afford it anyway." She let out a peal of laughter at this, "I should make a complainant to the school."

She held her head downwards and squeezed her eyes shut.

"Look at me!" the blonde demanded. She lifted her head slightly, worried by what she would see. The blonde was already giggling as she pushed her over and kicked her in the stomach. "Let's hope you don't live much longer."

The girl watched as the blonde's heels clicked on the tiles. She waited until the blonde was finally gone and then picked herself up off the floor. Tears swelled in her eyes and she rushed back to where she'd been sitting before.

What did she do to deserve it?


A/N:

Racism: "Racism, by its simplest definition, is the belief that race is the primary determinant of human traits and capacities and that racial differences produce an inherent superiority of a particular race. In the case of institutional racism, certain racial groups may be denied rights or benefits, or get preferential treatment. Racial discrimination typically points out taxonomic differences between different groups of people, even though anybody can be racialised, independently of their somatic differences."

It's something I seriously detest with all my heart. People are equal. I don't care if their black, white, tanned, blue, pink or purple. It doesn't matter. Looks don't define someone and those who believe it does are complete idiots.

That being said, I suppose everyone is entitled to their own opinions.