Failure Is Not An Option

Failure was never an option, and it never will be, that is something that my parents have taught me from such a young age. I was lectured daily about any mistake that I made, I was always the best at school, no-one was smarter than me, I was the best in all my classes, I’m not being arrogant, no, its really true, I’m just better than most people, my intellect exceeds those of my peers. This is something that I will always fall back on when anything gets difficult, I can always count on my brain to get me out of whatever situation I was in. That is until I got this letter. I opened it so rapidly thinking ‘another success’ just like all the other successes that so frequently occurred in my life. Now here I am in my living room, standing with this letter of denial to my dream school, surrounded by this dreadful feeling, surrounded by failure. What is happening? I can’t believe it, I failed, I could feel the paper crumbling under my hand. Tears of shame and failure now roll down my cheeks so rapidly, rolling down a face that embodied disappointment. What am I going to do? The application deadline already passed, I need another school, I need to find something quick! This is all my counselor's fault, she probably forgot to send the letter of recommendation, I hate her so much! All she does is sit in that office all day and talk to the kids with no future! I have a future, why can’t she help me succeed, why ?!! Y’know maybe it wasn’t her, I think it was my goddamn Chem teacher, if she had given me an A first quarter freshman year, my GPA would be higher, I hate her so much, they all want to see me fail just because they’re failing at life. It wasn’t her, she didn’t cause this, it was my family, they taught me failure is never an option but they couldn’t stand to see me winning they couldn’t embrace the idea that I am better and will always be better than them, always sending me to do some damn chores, how are chores going to help me in life? Am I growing up to becoming a goddamn dishwasher? No, it’s none of their faults, they have no effect on what occurs at the end of the day, at the end of the day it's me who decides what happens in my life. They didn’t do this to me, I did it to myself, I am the reason why I can’t go to my dream school, I’m the one who decided to apply to only one school, I’m the one who’s too arrogant, too dim-witted to see that he was only negatively affecting himself, I failed myself, no-one else. What am I going to do? What will my friends think of me, not getting into the top school? what will parents say? How will they react, how am I going to explain to them that I… failed, how am I going to tell them that this was my only choice, what will I do? Y’know, I don’t even care anymore, whatever happens, happens, all I can do is wait to apply to community college, I guess I have to go there for some time before I can do anything, I need to learn that not everything is about me, I need to make a difference in myself before I can truly move on, so from now on I’ll be humble. I need to clean this up before the dimwits arrive.


Choices




https://soundcloud.com/tony-nelson-540802950/choices




Comb your hair. It looks a mess. Fix your pants, Don’t get tattoos, Don’t wear hoods, don’t cover your face. Dress nice. You need to work harder as a black man.

In today’s society, being a person of color is hard son. People hate our tight kinks in our heads but at the same time they want it. To society we’re just some damned niggas that the government is going to do all they can do to keep us from prevailing. It is hard to be a person of color today because everyone is against it. They hate our royal blood. They hate that we are the original people. That our descendants were Kings and Queens.  But none of that matters because of societies view on our people. Stereotypes get our people killed every day no matter if it is by a policeman, a crackhead or even our fellow colored people. We are already put into a trench and the US doesn’t make it any easier. The average white person can just show up somewhere and be guaranteed a spot on the job but if someone like us shows up not wearing their sunday's best, there will definitely be a problem. Societies goal is is to make everything harder and harder for colored people, and you’re not making it any better on yourself.

I don’t care how cool it makes you look. You can have all the chains, all of the money, all of the girls, all of the clout but at the end of the day, NONE OF THAT SHIT MATTERS! Education is key boy. Being on the street won’t lead to anything good and once you get to deep, the harder it becomes. You think that shit is cool but you’ll surely end up in cuffs or in a casket. Take it from me son, I lost my best friend to the streets, Uncle Dre. I tried to tell him son I tried and tried but he was too much like us. To smart for his own good. He started smoking that stuff when he was younger, next thing I know he's selling it. When I got that call son it cut me to the white meat. I felt like it was my fault. He was in the fast lane. Now look where he's at now. My best friend in the ground at 32. I can't have that happen again. Not to you, my only son. I love you son. I can't lose you. Do you understand how devastated I would be if I got that call saying my son has  been arrested or worse.

I don’t care how thurl being “posted on the block” is considered when you could be posted up in the class getting and education instead of wasting your life being in the streets selling drugs and making less than you would working a minimum wage job.

What is it going to take for you to understand how serious this is? You could’ve already been killed. Luckily you have god on your side. It’s tragic how many people we lose from this street life. And just think son, not only are the people living your lifestyle affected but so are the innocent people caught in the middle of this. Say you are getting shot at and you hit some lady caught in the crossfire? You know what give me that gun off your hip, you’re not slick!

What do you mean no?

Son! Give me the gun!

*Grabs at sons waist, managing to grab the gun*

GIVE IT TO ME SON!

*At this point they are both tugging at the gun*

LET GO TR-----

BOOM

AHHHH DAMMIT TREY




Private Talk

I always feel like I’m going to throw up and I’m always so tired. I knew what I did was going to haunt me in the end but I like him so much. What was I supposed to do? Every time I have to go to the bathroom I look like a little kid on Christmas morning just praying something will happen, but deep down inside I know it won’t. I’ve been calling Maliq for the past week with still no answer. Maybe I should call him now since he just got out of school, but maybe I shouldn’t because I’m still at school. I’m just going to go to the bathroom and call.


[ring ring ring ring]


Hey, It’s been a minute and I miss you.

(...)

So what you, you don’t miss me back? (sucks teeth as she rolls her eyes)

(...)

No, no don’t say it now. I don’t want you saying anything that you don’t mean

(...)

if that’s the case why haven’t we spoken in the past week?

(...)

Busy my ass! (Martina begins to yell but once she realizes it she policing her voice)You always seem to make time for your hating ass best friend Maya. ( tapping her foot at a steady pace because she starting to become annoyed)

(...)
Whatever yo, I didn’t call you to argue. I got something to tell you.

(...)

You go first.

(...)

Nawl I really wanna hear what you have to say.

(...)

Alright, Alright(throws her hand up in the air) I’ll go first. I’ve been feeling really sick ever since we last you know.

(...)

I’m telling you because I’m scared (Someone walks in and she puts her feet on the toilet)

(...)

I’m scared of… ( Martina begins to choke on their words)

(...)

(She takes a pause to see if they leave)

(...)

Yeah, I’m still here, but Maliq I’m really worried.

(...)

Calm down there’s always a possibility of it happening”

(...)

Do you remember if it broke? ( she says in a whisper)

(...)

What you mean you didn’t use one probably? So you telling me you lied?

(...)

Well, I remember you telling me you were putting one on. How could you lie about something like that?

(...)

It is important!

(...)

I’m not acting like anything nigga. I am fucking pregnant because of your dumbass thinking shit isn’t important.

(...)

I’m talking to the dumbass on the phone.

(...)

What you gonna do about it, Maliq?

(...)

Stop cappin, you and me both know you love me.

(...)

( he’s yelling at her and sadness comes across her face)

I’m sorry I didn’t mean to say those things. I was just mad at you bae, but what are we gonna do? Hold on.

(Someone is knocking on the bathroom stall door.)

Someone is in here!

(Puts the phone back up to her ear)

My bad someone keeps knocking on the door, but what was I saying again?

(...)

Oh yea, hold on again

(the knocking stops)

That girl left finally

(...)

We need to talk about this now

(...)

What’s more important than this and who keeps on blowing up ya phone?

(...)

Oh it def is mine. Let me check it real quick.

(she scrolls through her phone to see all of her business posted around school)

Bae!!!! We have a problem. That girl who was just in here just posted all our business on the socials

(...)

I'm not playing you think everything is a joke, I'm scared to walk out the bathroom it's all over Instagram.

(...)

Even if she does.What about the 6,000 people that already saw it Maliq? Do you think?

(...)

I'm getting smart with you, And i know you don't care because you’re the boy it doesn't look bad on the boy it never does.

(...)

After all we been through your going to end it over an argument? While I'm about to have your baby? Are you fucking serious.

(...)

How could you do this to me yo(tears falling down)

(...)

(Yelling) What do you mean you don't give a fuck about me Maliq.You just was telling me how much you fucking love me and how you would never leave. So that was all a lie?

(...)

How can you sit here and tell me that all you wanted to do was have sex with me Maliq( wipes tears from her face).

(...)

Maliq you no what. GO TO HELL.

(...) ( phone hangs up )

(talking to herself) What am i going to do. I gotta tell my mom.

Sari call mom (calling mom with red heart suit) Mom I have to tell you something.

(...)

I'm pregnant.


She Thought She Was Slick

I thought that they could be trusted but it seems like they're not trustworthy.

What are they serving today? Hm…

I’ll have a salad and ummm a water, please.

[Dials lunch number]

Why is he trying to talk to me now?

I've been what! I'm the most faithful chick out here, the fuck you talking about?

“Yea I was at the party”

“Nothing happened between me and Ethan”

“I was just talking to her this morning”

“That can’t be true shes my best friend, I haven't done nothing to her that would get to the point of her saying any of this!”

“How can you believe any of this….. I don’t care if she told you. If I'm telling you that I had never done any of this then why are you still believing it?


I can't believe she would ever say I cheated on my boyfriend.  What if this gets out and he finds out. I don’t remember doing any of this at the party. It can’t be true. I need to find Ethan like right now! [Picks up phone and dials]

Ethan, it’s me. What have you… But I….

It’s not true. You just want to start spreading lies about you and me because I told you to go be with one of your other hoes. That's why you had left in the first place.

I was at the party, yes. But I don’t remember anything. I mean you know I was drinking. Duh like who wasn’t drinking it was the first party of the school year, I wasn’t about to be sober and be with all my other drunk friends.

You can not control what I do. This is why we broke up that night because you feel as though I can’t do anything without you knowing my every move.

You have people believing that I cheated on you and that's why we aren’t together. When you were the one who cheated on me with fucking Maria. I gave you a second chance and Maria as well.

But since you both wanna be playing around spreading all these fucking rumors about me. Might as well just have the the real truth put out there.

No, don’t tell me to calm down!

Making me look like a whore out here because you're mad we aren´t together anymore.

Fuck you! Go be with Maria and all her damn issues cause she's not my problem anymore nor are you.

Maria get over here now! I know you can hear me don’t act like a bitch now!

Oh, so you wanna start talking about me cheating on my boyfriend that night. What about you sleeping with him while we were together! And I found out and didn’t tell anyone, absolutely no one. I forgave both of you.

Oh you didn’t want anyone finding out, did you? Well, Karmas a bitch isn’t it. That's what I thought so, go throt ya ass down the hallway and feel how I was feeling all day today. At least the shit you were spreading was a lie. But these all facts.

Lay a hand on me and you’re done cause all this anger will end you in a place where your pretty little face won’t be seen anymore.

[Starts laughing]

Come on touch me I dare you.

Cause now everybody knows you the whore of the school.

Yeo everyone watch ya mans cause Maria probably out here trynna get wit them.

Oh and that's right Ethan too he's in the same boat as you, both whores.

Go be together now cause you both won’t have anyone after this.

Duces honey have a nice life.


Making Aluminum into Gold

Man I can’t believe Nyla was doing that with Rahmir. Shaking my head. I would never be caught dead doing that shit. I don’t have to ever worry about that I’m too good for the life half these girls living. I cringe at the thought of her yo (says this while laughing). Even putting me and her in the same category is a crime. I’m on a different level in life periodt. And it confuses me on how she keeps trying to talk to me in the lunch line like we’re friends or like she deserve a conversation with me. Like girl get out my face with your hair store lipgloss….this MAC on my lips!” (Said while applying lipgloss)


{Phone buzzes}


Oh snap it’s Jasmine.{Reads message and locks phone} Damn.

Stephanie of all people. I wonder why she did that. But, I don’t know. I just would have never guessed. Maybe I should talk to her.

Should I tell her that I can relate more than she thinks?

I wanted to move on from it, but I don’t want people misunderstanding Stephanie.

Nah. I’ve never talked to her before so why start now? Who knows if I’ll be able to prevent it from happening again.

Maybe I should talk to her.


{The phone rings, she answers}


Hey best. I need ya help. This girl in my class tried to kill herself. I know it’s none of my business but I was wondering if I should talk to her, or should I just leave it alone.

I’m second guessing talking to her about it because me and my friends don’t talk to her like that.

My friends are not messing up my judgment. I know I’ve changed since middle school. But you know I was never able to be part of this crowd in middle school, I’m trying to ya know reinvent myself.


But, I’m scared that it could be stopping me from helping someone.

And my friends don’t know everything about me. Like the reason I take those pills, but I feel like if I tell them I don’t know if they’ll want to hang out with me. Some people see bipolar-depression as being crazy. I’m not crazy. I’m trying to seem as normal as can be.

Omg Stop!


{her bestfriend hangs up, she looks at her phone with her mouth open with shock}


I can’t believe he hung up. All because I don’t know if I should help some girl I barely know.

Who knows if she even wants help.

And I know even if I tell people they might see me differently. I’m trying to be as normal as can be but I’m still not me.


{She starts to breath hard, running her hands through her hair and looking around as if trapped}


I can’t let them know. I already dealt with everything that I needed to. I went through the process of court, therapy, tears, and heartbreak. (All said while panting)

I cant’ even deal with this myself sometimes how am I supposed to help her and prove to her it’ll be ok. I don’t know if it’ll be ok.

How do I tell girls I just met last year that my uncle raped me? How do I say that I was wishing I would die at the age of 10 and then trying to grant my own wish in 8th grade?

I can’t, I can’t go back to how I was. But, I can’t keep faking who I am.


{she looks in the mirror and breathes calmy. She ends up calming herself down}

My problems can help Stephanie though, and if I don’t help her she could end up like me. You know what forget about it, if they’re my friends then they won’t judge me they’ll embrace me and this won’t change the way they see me if this friendship is meant to be.

I’m tired of being aluminum faking to be gold.

Lemme try to find Stephanie’s number.


Bully in a Hoodie

Of course, I know why I am here; because Ms.Garlengnal snitched on me. That’s why she will always be the janitor in this dirty school. Anyways, it wasn’t my fault that freshmen were getting smart with me, that’s why I slammed him into the wall. You can suspend me, give me detention I don’t care.


It all started when this scrawny looking kid with wiry red hair, an orange striped shirt, khaki long pants, church shoes, and huge brown-framed glasses was sitting against the lockers reading his book. And I recalled he is in my math class and was one of those “I know kids”. You know, the kids who know all the answers to every question, usually waving their hands around, yelling “oooh oooh, I know, I know”, the one that always does their homework. And I remembered that I didn’t do my homework for that class (like always) but if I didn’t do this homework I was going to have to repeat junior year and I’m just trying to get the f*** out of here, ASAP. So I walked up to him with my big black hoodie and my scrunched up, glaring, mad face and told him to give me his homework or else. He looked up at me and responded with or else what. This freshman had some mouth, I said or else I will break your almond looking head and make you regret your entire existence. He stood up, looked me straight in the eye and said, “I’d like to see you try”. My spread out fingers soon stuck together, feeling my anger inside my chest transform into energy that is coming into hands. Moments later the punk a** kid was lying on the ground crying his eyes out. That is when I saw Ms.Garlenal leave her mop and rush towards the principal’s office.


So that’s why i'm in this damn place. But kid deserved it.


Counselor?

I don’t need to talk to a counselor, I’m perfectly fine. Don’t call her,

How am I? What do you care.

The only reason you’re here is to get money.

Like who are you looking at like that, like hello and goodbye. Like you can get your dum dum, bubblegum lookin a** the f*** out of here!

Fine, just start so we can get this over with.

My family? None of your goddamn business.

Okay, I live with my dad.

Yes, that’s all.

What did I just say? Obviously if I live with just my dad then I don’t have siblings or a mom living with me.

Can you stop asking me questions about my family, gosh

I play a sport.

Wrestling.

Yea, it’s pretty fun actually. It’s a really good stress reliever.

Nah, that’s all I do.

Well to be honest, I don’t have any siblings and my mother died 10 months ago

Yes it’s just me and my dad

I mean it’s been pretty tough, he started to develop a drinking problem and has been getting angrier and harsher with the belt as the time goes.

NNeeveerr mind. Forget what I just said.

Just forget it!

No don’t call the police!

What have I just done!


I panicked, tears running down my puffy eyes and red face. I didn’t want to get my dad arrested, even worst I didn't want to lose two parents in the span of 1 year. What was going to happen to me, now my life is going to flip completely. I know he is the guilty person in this situation but I still loved my dad. Even after all the pain and suffering he has put me through.

Bully in a Hoodie by Iman Ahmed

Stream Bully in a Hoodie by Iman Ahmed from desktop or your mobile device

Family Ties

I hate him. I can’t believe he actually did it. I made that face again. The one he hates, the one that he says makes me look miserable and snobbish. I shouldn’t have done it, it was me pushing him to the edge but still, he hit me. I should be mad right? But I can’t help feeling this guilt. No, no, he’s the wrong one, no one should ever hit their child, no matter what. He’s not an abuser, obviously, I know that. He only hit me once. Just this one time because I was being disrespectful. I talked back when he told me to fix my face.

I know I egged him on when I refused to smile. Why the hell did I push him to hit me? I knew he was having a bad day, but I still decided to make that face. Should I apologize?

No, I can’t. I can’t keep acting happy when I’m not. It’ll only make him think that what he did was right. I don’t want him to hit me or you again. I wish he wasn’t our father. At least our mother was able to escape him. You and I both know that he beat her. I still remember when she used to sleep in our bed and when she would wake up the next morning with bruises on her arms and legs. I know you remember it too. I know you remember him waking her up the next morning with little gifts to make her forget about what had happened the night before.

(sister speaks)

I know we’re his children but that doesn’t mean it’ll stop him from hurting us like he did to mom. I don’t want to stay here anymore. It’s not safe. A father is supposed to provide protection not create an unsafe environment. He makes me- both of us feel weak, vulnerable.

(sister speaks)

He hit me here! Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt and it certainly doesn’t justify his actions. Look, I know he’s our father. I know that, but he isn’t fit to be one. I’ve heard the way he’s talked to you. You’re only twelve and he’s cursing at you for making a small mistake. I know how meek and small you feel when he lectures you because I was once in your place. But now I’m sixteen and I have only two more years before I can leave this hellhole and never see him again. But I won’t if it means you are going to be alone with him.

Mom was right to leave all those years ago. If she had stayed, who knows what would’ve happened? I wish she had taken us with her. She was our only outlet. I’m not gonna do what mom did to us. I won’t abandon you. We need to leave here or this might only get worse.

What’s going to stop him from making us his next victim?

I don’t want him to hurt you too.

(dad calls main character)

It’s ok.

I know you’re sorry.

I love you too.

I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have talked back to you.

I know.

I love you.

Ok.

(returns back to sibling)

He apologized.

Those things I said, it’s just what I felt in the moment. We all say things we don’t mean sometimes. Please don’t tell him that I said I hated him because I really do love him. He’s a good father and sometimes he gets upset just like every other parent. I overreacted, that’s all. I could never hate my father. I love him.


The Light

THE LIGHTS


Did everything turn off? I hear the faint click of electrical appliances shut down left and right. My mother rolls her eyes and groans. She places the dish she was washing down and goes to the basement.  When she comes back up, her confused face says it all; our power circuit was fine.


People walk past our window. I need to check this out. It’s freezing out here I don’t understand why people would voluntarily go out at this time. The night sky shrouds everyone's face but I know general confusion is in the air.


The city skyline is beautiful, the fact that it’s the only light source really makes it shine. W-wait, why are the lights turning off? There is no more light. What the hell is happening?  


Let's go home, I’m cold and tired. Everything will probably be okay when we wake up...right? Mom nods her head in approval.


This blanket is comfy, Goodnight! Love you!


IT'S FREEZING! Guess the heater still isn’t working? The TV isn’t on and I can’t hear mom making her daily batch of coffee. Something must be up?


Thank god, she left some cereal! Hmm, what this.


“Had to leave for a meeting, back at 5. I would have texted you but it seems the power is still out. Have a good day and don’t be late for school!”

                                                                          - Love, Mom


Ah shoot, I need to get ready. What time is it? 7:00 okay. I got some time.  


I can just tell I'm going to be late, but at this point, I honestly don’t care. WHEW, how cold is it going to get? The amount of cars in the street is alarming, oh the street lights don’t work, that's why.


Who is honking so loud? Jesus Christ, we get it. Wait why is he getting out of the car I-.


Oh, man, are they going to fight... yup they are fighting.


You know what I’m just going to keep it pushing because I don’t have time for any of that. That crazy though… people cango one night without power and act like they lost everything.


I'm finally here, why is everyone in the schoolyard?


Wait really, they closed the schools because of a blackout?! Thank god because I had this biology assignment to finish. What do you think caused this blackout? Really, that’s… crazy. Umm okay, see you soon!


Did she really say that the power was out for the entire country? How could that happen, isn’t that impossible? I’ve only heard that in fictional stories, but for it to come true is insane.

Okay, so the country might not have power for weeks or even longer, what can I do, oh my god what can I do!


I know we need food. Okay, okay how much do I have? Okay, 35$ I can make this work.


Take a right on 22nd and then... Okay, there it is!


I guess people had the same idea whew. Ignore them we have to get dry food, remember nonperishable.


Crackers, soup what else OH of course water. Where would that be?


“Excuse me” I swear if this lady pushes me one more time.


Done! Great now I have to shove myself through this isle chalked full of people.


“Hi yes, that all. Do I put the cash in the bucket? Okay, thank you!”


At least I have some food for me and my mom… but will it last until the power comes back?


A Forbidden Love

August 27th,


I want to date this girl. But it’s like, “uuuuuuuuuuugh.”

Let me explain...

I like this girl. But. I used to go with the girl’s cousin. It’s weird. I know.

The girl I like is named Khalilah.

It was like love at first sight.

I had a two-year crush on her. But no one never knew.

I always acted like she was just a friend so you could never tell.

I didn't see her in 2 years, but my feelings for her never changed.

I would see her on Instagram and just think of what we could be.

Today I’m starting at this new high school.

And I saw her. My heart stopped for a second. I didn't know she went here.

We instantly locked eyes. She ran and hugged me she was happy as day to see me.

“Hey Ron”

She was real hype when she saw me but I had to play it cool.

“Sup”(said nonchalantly). On the inside I wanted to be hype, I wanted to hug her back, but I just couldn't. I didn't have it in me.

Then I found out that she was in all my classes. When got to class we spoke and made up for lost times.

We talked about how close we used to be, and how many fun time we used to have before the move.

I tried my best to act casual as we talked, but when she hugged me.

I remembered every reason why I ever liked her.

As the day goes by every minute getting harder than the next. Finally, the day is over.

I thought about her the whole time I was walking home with my new friends I made.

My conscience told me to tell her I liked her, but I was way to scared.

I opened our messages and just stared at it for about an hour.

Finally. I texted her.

“Khalilah“ I sent

“Yes“

“I like you and have for a while now“

“You’re joking right?“

“No, I had a crush on you for like 2 years now“

So she calls. My hands started to shake viscously. I was too nervous.

I almost dropped my phone.

I let the first call ring all the way through ( ring, ring... )

As the phone was ringing so many thoughts crossed my mind.

Does she like me?. Would she go out with me?. Does she even look at me like that?.

(took a deep breath)

She calls again. I answer.

“Hello“

she said “Are you joking? Because we can’t be together.“

As much as I wanted to say I was joking. I just couldn't.

“No, I’m being for real“

“You went out with my cousin in the 6th grade, I can't do that,“ she says.

I started to get frustrated. “We’re in 10th grade. That relationship was so childish.”

She said nothing. We sat their quiet. About two minutes went by, but it really felt like 2 years.

Then suddenly beep, beep, beep, .

She hung up on me.

All night I thought. How could this be? There has to be a way.

The next morning comes. The second day of school. I see her on the way to Spanish class.

Things were kind of awkward but I go along with it anyway.

“Wassup Khalilah“

“Hey, Ron.”

I knew she was nervous because she looked down and played with her nails as she spoke to me.

“What took you so long to tell me you liked me?“

“Well 2 years ago you had a boyfriend, I wanted you to notice but you never did“.

She finally picked her head up and said

“I didn't think you would like me, Karon, I thought you looked at me as a sister. Not as a girlfriend“.

As class starts all I could think about was her. I sat and stared the entire time thinking of what we could've been. What we could have become.

The class is over. I'm walking home and I get a text. It's from Khalilah.

We can't talk. We can't go out. We can't do anything.

I felt empty on the inside. I felt like my hopes of getting the girl I wanted so bad was coming to an end.

My phone vibrates again it's another text message. It's Amiyah, Khalilahs cousin.

“You like Khalilah? Rumor going around that y'all supposably got something going on”.

“I like her but we don't have nothing going on, she won't talk to me because of you”.

“Well, you can't talk to her point blank Periodt “.

I left her on read. I felt everything in my body go numb, starting from my toes.


Mr. Bennet

Yo, whats going on? You in trouble or something, you called my phone like 20 times, I was in school. Yeah, I'm free to talk. Wait, didn’t you just break up with Jason like two days ago? How you moving on that fast? Yes, I’m listening you said he’s tall and light skin and wears suits. I don’t know what boy wears suits, but okay continue.


What do you mean he’s older like 17 or in college? He’s your who? So, you're being taken advantage of by your teacher? (long pause)


YES! It is like that. Your teacher is not your boyfriend, y'all aren’t together and you can’t love someone you just met. Do you honestly think a person that’s 30 wants a 16 year old? Something's wrong with him. And you can’t be that— No, I'm not calling you stupid or crazy, it’s not hard to get involved with a handsome pedophile. I just wish you could make better decisions, when I said find a more mature guy to date, I didn’t mean an adult. There’s nothing funny about this; what it is, is a serious case. HE DOESN’T LOVE YOU (pause) or at least in the way you want him to.


Trust me that’s not a relationship that will take you far. I’m not trying to be your mother and nobodies tryna take your happiness away. I’m just tryna get you out of lala land; you're wonderful world of rainbows where men like little girls. He ought to lose his job! It’s that serious Selena. Besides the fact that it isn’t a real relationship, it’s not even legal. I’m trying my best to be patient with you, but you can’t sit here and tell me this is right. I was here for you in your last relationship, the ups and downs. I helped you respond to texts and helped you calm down when Jason did something stupid. I was here for it all, but I can assure you this relationship won’t be the same. I want nothing to do with it. I’m glad that you don’t need me. Okay whatever nothing, the least you could say is thanks for the adv—(click) Did she just hang up on me?


Truth hurts I guess. My intentions aren’t to be hard on her. It just got to me, how she finds “love” so quickly. In the span of her 3 loves I can’t even find one. She turns away all of the guys her age and turns to a teacher- a grown man. I find it sad. Sometimes my sympathy for her translates to anger because there’s so many ways she can change to become the person she wants to be. Or maybe it’s the person I want her to be? Is it my goal and not hers? Why am I even this stressed about a situation that doesn’t concern me and a person who doesn’t want my help? I think I wrap myself into other people’s problems and when they can’t see what I see I get frustrated. I don’t think I can help Selena. She doesn’t even see anything wrong with dating Mr. Bennet. How could she, when she views me as a mom and not her friend. There’s nothing I can do about that, you can’t change how people see you. I can’t make her understand and it frustrates me. I’m watching my friend go down a path, I know leads nowhere good. My advice to her goes in one ear and out the other. There’s nothing I can do. And the more I talk and advise the more she ignores me. She’s slowly drifting away. At least I’ve said my peace. I can’t save everyone.


Chili Child

How am I supposed to take on these mongrels if the sun won’t let up? I’m sick of always being weak. Everyone is trying to bring me down. Even mother nature isn’t on my side today.

Alright, if I can just get to their camping grounds. But what would I do then? I might as well just accept this fate. I mean, the rest of the village has. There’s nothing I can do to help save my village now. Yet, this force keeps nudging me on. Pulling me towards the depths of heroism and sucking me into a great pit of empathy. I feel remorse for those who have done wrong by me. All the villagers who told me I was useless. A joke, because I enjoyed reading instead of wrestling. Kari, the helpless bookworm. That is what they called me. So why? Why do I feel this empathy now? I could protest that it’s all because of you. You united us all.  Mama you left us too soon. I miss you and your chunky chili, packed with the richest of flavors from Papa's garden. You could taste the love. With every bite you felt warmth. I think it made us greedy because like your Chili,


I don't want to share my village. Our village is not for those whose lips haven’t tasted your Chili. For anyone who has, knows what goes into making that Chili. Appreciates the ones who have poured their hearts into it and would never think to ruin Papa’s vegetable patch. Those fools. They have come. Ransacked our homes and declared this Chili pot of a village their own. Do they even know your recipe? Do they hold within them the love that you so graciously bestowed upon our village through your Chili? I am convinced the town lost their hope when we lost you. That terrible day. We tried to hang on. I’m still trying. Once the mongrels came the pain was too much to fight with. You push me forward. I know you would want me to try. Even though I don’t have the arms to hold our hopes or the back to carry the village. I know one thing. You gave me your love. You never doubted me. You told me I was destined for greatness.


MAMA. I cry out to you now to let you know I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t be a better son. You always told me to be kind and true to myself. I wish I was a better son. The books, I don’t know why but I’m drawn to them. Their stories capture me and make me forget the harsh reality. The days we went with no food. None of your Chili. The beatings unto the ones I loved, I bared witness. I was helpless then and I am helpless now. I tried to be brave like you told me but I can’t find it within me. I want to stand up for our people.

*LOOKS BACK

Tenowé, my home village. Papa, Minari and Hinetu, my sisters. Anar, my brother. Maybe I should just turn around, go back home and be ready for what comes next. I can’t stand the thought of these barbarians being in charge of all our land. The land we nurture and care for. They don’t deserve to come here and do this to us. We’ve lived in peace with them for all these years why now? It doesn’t matter. I won’t let them take it! It doesn’t matter if I have to fight the chief myself! I will make them leave.

*LOOKS AROUND

I’ve only walked to the river, but their camp is past the hills, I’m already tired.

*DROPS TO GROUND

What a disgrace I am! There’s no way I can face them alone, but the thought of them stepping all over us like this makes me sick. We are a peaceful people but they need to learn a thing or two if they think they can just raid our village and make us do their bidding. Fight for what is right. That is what you told me.

*GETS UP

And that is what I will do. No matter what gets in my way. I know you are with me. I know you gave me something more powerful than fists. You gave me a heart, you gave me love. And I will use my heart to get our village back! For you...Mama.


the paper.

This isn’t fair, I worked too hard on this paper. I spent countless nights studying this dumbass topic. Who the hell cares about the fall of the Roman Empire? It fell! It’s 2018, this doesn’t benefit my generation at all. You gave Sandy a 90 and she barely met the requirements, you said we had to type a 2,000 word essay, double spaced, 12-point font, and in mla format. She didn’t even make it to half of the word requirements and her layout was a mess. I started this the day it was assigned and continued to do research along the way. She even told me she started Saturday when you gave us 3 weeks to do this. You even put the “no exceptions, all late work will receive a zero” in bold red letters at the top of the paper where we had to sign our names. She turned it yesterday, it was due Saturday!


This isn’t the first time you handed out A’s to those who don’t deserve it and you still, somehow, find it okay to give low grades to students who do exceptional work and exceed many of your expectations, which, might I add, are very low expectations. What do you think, we’re dumb? Anyways, you did the same thing with Bobby when he wrote his essay on the importance of religion. You did the same thing with Sameera when she wrote about the justice system and how the name itself contradicts itself when it comes to a certain race *cough* african americans. You did the same thing with James when he had to make a report about global warming. And funny thing is, they all happen to be of darker toned skin.


Look, all I’m saying is Sandy is a very light person with very wealthy parents who somehow got her into Harvard who you happen to be very close with. I mean, why else would she invite you to dinner on the holidays? I however, got a full ride here based on my hard work and nearly flawless assignments. All of them, beautifully written in its own existence. So, professor Bower, I am asking you to consider changing my grade. I’m tired of asking for extra credit, I’m tired of staying up late when you clearly seem to think it doesn’t benefit my work at all, I’m tired of raising my hand in class only to be ignored and shunned by your ignorance, I’m tired of you letting Sandy think she’s on my level, and I am sick and tired of your race preference. We’re all students here at Harvard. White, Black, Hispanic, Asian, you’re going to have to deal with your stereotypes of these brilliant students being shattered by reality. Education does not belong to one race, and your racism does not belong here.


You and I both know I didn’t deserve this 90, the least I should’ve gotten was a 98, nothing less. Sandy continues to think she’s up to par with me and you let her believe it. She even asked once if I could study with her, I don’t even think she could grasp any of my studying strategies.


You are a weak minded man and you’re cheating the educational system with your favoritism and your prejudice against us black people. You continue to ignore our intelligence and look to the whites for someone to thank when we do something exceptional. As I once had to, learn to equally love each race as their own and learn to make an attempt to put aside the stereotypes and give credit when it’s due. Now can you please change my grade, you’re ruining my record.


It Takes Two to Tango

Nate, what are you doing with my phone? Come on just -sighs- ok yes, I’m cheating on you. Baby, please, I’m sorry. Please just let me explain, alright. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, it just kind of did, ok. I know you’re upset, more than upset, but just hear me out. How long? 2 months, his name is- you’re right, he doesn’t matter right now. What matters is me explaining myself.


When it first started you were working crazy hours, I was proud of you for getting that promotion, but Nate, you changed. Haven’t you noticed what it’s done to you, to our relationship. You’re distant, and you’re always too exhausted to have a conversation. You became monosyllabic and when you did talk in full sentences it was only ever about work. Did you really just say that to me, Nate? You were selfish, you didn’t care about what was happening in my life. And I tried to keep this relationship going, but you gave me nothing. If you had been complaining about your boss or some co-workers the day before, I would make that dish you like, chicken cordon bleu, to cheer you up. Maybe I’d get a quick thank you, maybe, but that was it. I even went to that stupid networking event with you and you know how much I hate wearing cocktail dresses and heels. I spent the whole night hanging out with someone’s grandmother while you were busy kissing up to your boss. I tried to save this, but it takes two to tango right? I don’t know why you’re so surprised. I mean, did you think I was just going to sit around and wait for you to remember how to be a good boyfriend? If that were the case I’d be waiting an eternity.


I’m sorry that this was so abrupt, but I was worried. I was worried that if you didn’t have anyone in your life things would get bad, or at least worse than they already were. (pause)I know that this isn’t a good time, but do you realize that this is the longest conversation we’ve had in what seems like forever. Laughs What’s he like? Are you sure you want to hear about him? Ok, um well he’s really sweet and smart, he works in marketing. Um, we met at that networking party, oddly enough, and he was actually someone else’s date. He came over and he asked me to dance. When I said sure, he joked and said that he was actually talking to the old lady next to me. He made me laugh so much that night, I hadn’t had fun like that in awhile. Listen, he’s a good guy, I’m the one at fault here. I cheated on you, I lied and I’m sorry. Look at me, what I did was wrong, I’ll admit to that, but don’t act like you’re so innocent. Nate, you’re not the same person that I met a year ago, you let your job change you. You lost your compassion and your heart, and I deserved better than what you gave me.


Do I still love you? Honestly, I think I stopped a while ago, but I did at one point. Sometimes I thought that things would get better, I prayed that they would. There was one night when you came home and you were hammered, but you gave me a hug that lasted longer than 2 seconds. You apologized about letting your job change you, and for a split second I saw a nice future together. Then you woke up, got sober and went to work. Things didn’t change and I found myself wondering how I could still love someone that I didn’t even recognize? Nate, we can’t do this anymore.


Sitting Pretty//Sophia Monologue

I can’t take this anymore. I spent two hours getting ready for this date at Bello Italinao. I went out and bought this navy dress it so you would stare at me instead of anyone else. I did my eye makeup in the most dramatic way so you sigh when looking into my eyes. I got the boldest and most reddest lipstick I could find just  so we can finally have a passionate kiss. The kiss I have been dreaming of. But no! You just seem to cancel on me whenever I seem to try. You have done it twice before. And those two times I have been okay with it. We have been on many other dates before this, so I thought that you canceling on me was just a normal thing to do. For the last few times that you have canceled on me,  I have been compliant and laughed it off as a joke. But I can’t laugh anymore. You can’t just cancel on me and expect for me to be okay with it. I am not an obedient dog that will follow your every command. I am a human too.


Don’t roll your eyes at me, Orlando. You know I’m right. You never seem interested in what’s right in front of you. Whenever we are hanging out, you seem to stare at any other girls that aren’t me. Your jaw drops, your eyes are fixated on her, and she seems to be an angel sent from Heaven for you. But you have never given me that look. And I have always craved the look, but you just seem to glance over me. Remember when we are out eating at The Ruby Rooftop. All you could do is stare at that girl named Lilah. While you looked away, I would play with my hair to make mine look more like Lilah’s; I would wrap my hair around my fingers to make my hair have more volume and more waves, but you never seemed to notice. You never do.


When we do have the chance to talk and hang out, you somehow find a way to complain about everything I do or wear. “Don’t wear your hair up, it doesn’t flatter your figure.” “Stop eating so much. Fat girls aren’t attractive.” “Change your outfit, Rebeca. You look like a slut in that dress.” And everything I laugh your comments over, and I always changed for you. I would wear my hair down, I would eat less, I would wear less exposed clothing. But the most important thing is that I never said anything back to you because I loved you. I was madly in love. But not anymore.


You don’t know the damage that you have caused. There have been many nights where I have cried myself to sleep beside of your comments. You just throw around words without thinking about how it affects other people. Calling women sluts isn’t the nicest thing to say y’know. Well Orlando, I have some words for you. Words that your egoistial mind may not be able to take.


I am breaking up with you, because of you.


Don’t get mad at me. You caused it. There is so much hate that I have taken in from you and enough is enough. Now it is your turn to feel pain. Maybe I should post the picture of you and Lilah getting very …. comfortable at the mall. Or maybe a picture of all of the texts that you sent me telling me that I am an ugly whore and should present myself better while in your present. I can ruin your whole reputation.


I’m done with you, Orlando.


**phone rings**


*say this converstation sheepishly and bashful*

Hi.

(do you want to go on a date on Friday)

Ummmm... Okay

(we can go to the Riverview theatre)

The Riverview Theatre? What time?

(7:00 p.m.)

7:00 p.m. on Friday? Sounds good. See you then Orlando.


I better start planning my outfit. I want to look good for him.


Hey I have to talk to you about something

Hey, I need to talk to you. I have something I need to get off my chest to you. You’re one of my closest friends and I need to tell you this. Is that cool? Okay, so I wrote some poem type thing.

 

This is the story of

Me myself and I

Now before we start

I have to tell you one thing

I am a love machine

The best of all time

Now let's start my story

With my most recent love

I remember the day like it was yesterday

I handed her a silver platter of happiness

It had a few side dishes

Love, care and the most important said

I'll make all your dreams come true

You know what she did?

She turned around and said  

"Hey, no way"

And stormed out the room

Saying at the top of her lungs

How much I had hurt her

But that was all a lie

She got off Scott free

She didn't have to pay a fee

I wasn't Scott and I had to pay a fee

The fee was my love machine

Because She had broken it

Now it wasn't all her fault

She wasn't the only one to leave scratches

She was the finale

Now I search for the encore

My encore

The one to fix me

The one to fix my love machine

When I see her

I will have to tell her

About all my scratches

I will say this is

Number 1 number 2 number 3 number 4

And this is CR

She will ask why this one has initials

I will say because this is the one

That broke my love machine

But when I find my encore

She will make my love machine a factory

An encore is all I am looking for

Cause she will find the missing pieces

Of my broken heart

And put them where they belong

This is my closing statement

I wanna leave this with you

Love is a hospital

We will always need it because we wouldn't be here without it

It will always be there but we won't always be there

It will both heal and hurt

But we will all make that call

That "hello 911" call

We will be rushed to the hospital

Then all we can do is wait

And see if this is pain or if this is aid

See if this will break you or if this will make you


Thank you for listening to that. You are one of my closest friends and you deserve to know where my head is at right now. I wrote that in February. I was thinking again about where I am in life. How I feel. And am I okay. I’ve noticed a change in me. I feel so disconnected from this poem now. I’ve seen CR walking down the hallway and my heart doesn’t skip a beat anymore. I don’t feel like they are weighing me down anymore. I don’t feel like she controls me anymore. I feel like I am finally in control of my own life like I can do anything like I can change the world I feel unstoppable. I feel happy. I am happy. My life is going in a good direction and I can’t wait to see where it leads. I haven’t felt like this in years and I finally got that feeling back yesterday. I got up with a smile on my face today and I think you have something to do with that. Recently I’ve been feeling something more than happiness because of you. This is something I’ve never felt before. We’ve been friends for what feels like forever, but something deep inside me wants to be much more than that. I think you’re my encore. Oh okay. That’s fine. I guess I’ll see you around then.


Barbershop Bust- Michal's Monologue

...Yeah, just like I said. Cut it short on the sides and shape it up. Oh, and don’t mess up my golden locks. These are magnets for girls. In fact, I’ve been talking to someone lately, and things between us have been going pretty well to say the least. (Laughter) You know what I’m talking about? So, I’m gonna need you to make it look crisp. No, I’m not going on any dates yet, but this cut might just help get me one. What’s that? I got a haircut last week? I don’t really keep track. All I know is that it has to look perfect at all times. How else do you think girls talk to me? Listen, I can’t let people see me and go “that’s an ugly person”. Whatever people think of me is what matters. Oh, by the way, can you give me a line on the side? I think that’ll give my hair a nice touch.

(Swipes hair to the sides)


Hey…can you stop for a minute? What’s that on my head? The line is going further back than usual. I haven’t put my hair up in a while, but it’s never looked like this befo- wait. There’s no way. Am I balding? I never thought that this would happen to me! I mean, my dad is bald, but he’s like a grandpa! I can’t let anyone see this. What will Rebecca think? I’ve been flirting with her for a while, and she’s always complimented me on my hair. She likes how it’s soft and shiny and smooth and… everything! What will she think of me now, knowing that it’s all fading away. She’ll slowly start ignoring me: she won’t say “Hi” to me in the morning, she won’t talk to me during our lunch break, and eventually she’ll forget I even exist! In fact, no one will talk to me anymore because of how unattractive my hair makes me look. I won’t be invited to any of my friends’ parties. I’ll no longer be “cool” anymore. I’m just going to look like a goober. I’ll be an outcast of society for crying out loud! You have to fix it. Fix it right now!


What do you mean you can’t? I don’t care if it’s a “natural process” that men go through. It doesn’t make sense for me to bald. I won’t fit in with my friends. Who else have you seen that’s balding as a 16 year old? Oh, you didn’t know I was 16? Exactly. I’m just going to be a fish out of water in school. You know what? Just finish the haircut. I might as well get my money’s worth.


(As barber finishes up, man stares at mirror)


I can’t believe this is happening to me. Why me? Why ME?


“A rich heart may be under a poor coat”... what do you mean by that? It’s a scottish proverb? Okay, but that has nothing to do with my hair. (Laughs to self) Are you saying that my appearance is the coat? I don’t think I have a rich heart. I’m just another nobody. Who would want associate with me for any reason other than my hair. Well, like I said: it’s smooth and soft and...


...You know, come to think of it, is my hair really that important? I don’t think Rebecca started talking to me because of my hair. Sure, maybe it helped with the looks, but now she talks to me because of what’s on the inside. Hair is only an aesthetic. Really, it’s just some fluff on the top of my head. And my hair isn’t what makes me likeable or have a bunch of friends. I’m the reason. Everything I do and say is what makes me likeable. If I display self-confidence in myself, no one will even think twice about what’s on top of my head. Sure, people will obviously joke about it at times, but don’t we all have our own imperfections?


(Stands up)


Thank you for this amazing experience. I really found myself today. The hair doesn’t even look half bad now that I look at it. In fact, I’m gonna give you a tip. Have a nice day!


Backbone

Backbone

Hello mother, how are you today? That's good. No, I’m not fine actually, not fine at all. Well, I am really anxious, mom, I have an exam coming up that I am not feeling great about. I have to cram for it tonight and I am already struggling in the other classes. I feel like I am about to explode inside. I don’t want to do it anymore I’m freaking tired of everything!

On top of all my stress at school, I don’t have time to hang out with friends, and I’m now losing friends. Oh and this morning Cynthia broke up with me. I just want to be done with college. Everyone talks about “the good college years” but honestly these are the worst years of my miserable life. I can’t catch a break mom.

Oh and don’t think I forgot, that I have to take care and raise your kids! I am trying to get through college and just have a life, but I have three kids to take care of. Ever since you left last year, my life has become making sure the kids, are okay, and making sure I can at least slide through school. Now I have to get the kids a babysitter to watch them, so I can go to work in the night. Why? You ask. well, I have to pay the bills now because you decided to stop paying. It’s not healthy for me, mom! I physically feel like crap, because I got zero sleep.

Do not think that I do not love my siblings. I give them all the love that you didn’t. No, you don’t mom! If you really did you wouldn’t have walked out on us. I take care of them well. I was there on Jenna's first day of school, Rocco’s kindergarten graduation, and Phyllis learning to ride her bike. I was there, you weren’t. They rely on me know I have earned their trust. As far as I know, they have no more trust in you, all that trust went out the same door you did when you left.

Even though you left they still need you, heck, I still need you. We are struggling, I don’t have enough money coming in, we are not going to survive. I’m trying I really am. I know things were hard for you, but you can’t just walk away.

I understand the difficulty that you had to face after dad got arrested all those years ago. Ever since that happened you acted differently. I knew from then you would never be the same. Life changed for everyone, it was hard I get it, but that didn’t mean you should’ve just given up. I still didn’t give up and trust me I want to but I know I can’t let the rest of my family down. Dad did something very wrong, but he did not intend for you to walk out on us. Nobody did but you. That’s all you ever think about, yourself.

It doesn’t have to end this way though. This past year has been rough for both of us. I’m sorry for what dad did, and I’m sorry for the limited support you received.  I can’t do this alone mom, and neither can you. We need to be there for each other and be together, as a family. This life is hard enough as it is alone. We might as well just do it together. So what do say we start over, begin a new slate, be a family again. Is it a yes? Mom? Mom? Hello, mom are you there?


Superstar

Superstar


“Yeah yeah I’m ready for the finals coming up.”

“You already know Ima hoop.”

“Shoot, Ima try to get drafted to the Lakers with my man Lebron.”

“Alright, see Y'all later.”

I’m the best basketball player in my grade, on the East Coast. If anyone tries to 1v1 me… they’re getting dropped. Not even my friends can stick me. My friends are great though. They’ve been supporting in my many years of hoopen’. They’ve been by my side every step of the way and I trust them to the end. And I hardly keep secrets from them. I’ve only kept one secret from them and it’s a secret that ruined my reputation as the best. It’s really funny how I thought I was going somewhere. I thought I could provide for my mom and my brother.  And I don’t know, maybe buy them a house in one of those rich white people neighborhood. It’s kinda funny how salty I was feeling when I got the news from the doctor. I was all like, “I’m the best, I’m going to be in the NBA and be an All-Star.” But then I started to have major heart pains whenever I started playing in games and scrimmages.


My dream was shot down in a matter of 3 words. “You have carditis.”


Apparently, that’s when you have inflammation in your heart. At first, when I heard this I was like, “Oh that stinks.” With very little worry. And so this man just kept on rambling and rambling about the conditions until finally, he said the words that I still hear when I sleep. “You most likely will not ever have a career in any sport, because at any moment, you could drop dead.”


Now when he said this... I…I almost punched him. Does he not know who I am??? I’m Sharod Christopher Smith-Jackson III, and I am going to be the best basketball player in the world!


My mother kept trying to say that it was going to be alright and how I didn’t have to be a basketball player to make her proud. I knew she was right but I didn’t want to admit it. And I for sho, can’t tell my friends. When they find out I can’t play ball, how will they react? I know it’s kinda sad but it’s one of the one things that we have in common. And now what I am supposed to now. Be a computer nerd? I don’t think so. This heart condition is my life, now, but so is basketball. I don’t want that to change. But it was already too late. My “wonderful” mother signed me up for a computer programming club. Mom really drove me all the way there just to make sure I went. I stepped up to the door and went in. I waited a couple seconds and peeked out the door but she was still there. So I gave up and went inside. Now to my friends, I had a reputation as a good basketball player but I didn’t realize I had a reputation to everyone else because when I walked in everyone stared at me like I came from Mars. And I as soon as I sit down they all kinda lean away and I hear a few scoots from chairs, as they try to get a little farther away from me. I could tell they weren’t fond about a “jock” going into their computer lab. The teacher, Mr. Matthews, came over and explained all about computer programming and what it can be used for. It was super boring at first. I mean how could it be compared to basketball. But as I looked around the room, I saw how cool it was. There were robots moving, and video games being made, and for the first time in a while… I smiled. This was something I could do. So when I got home I did my research and learned by myself the different coding languages. I finally told my “friends” about my condition and computer programming and they didn’t say much. So now I am completely focused on computer programming and I am top of my class. And that’s why I would really appreciate if you gave me this opportunity to show you what I can do for this company because my mom was right...I don’t need to be a superstar.

Clear Glass Bottles With Water

​School was lame today. I participated for the first time because we had to play this one game where we talked  about ourselves. I told my friend I did it for the participation point so that I seem cool cause the cool kids never participate. “My name is Nathaniel. My favorite color is red. My favorite food is pancakes.” The class stares at me silently, and we patiently wait for someone else to participate. Through the window, you can hear people arguing outside, traffic and maybe a homeless man asking for change to spend on drugs, it’s nothing new around here in north Philadelphia. As other students participate and time passes by, the teacher tells us to pack up. I notice everyone has a jacket but me. Why? I asked mama to buy me the red jacket from the store and she always told me that she can’t get it and i’ll have to wait. I did not like waiting because she always lied to me about getting the stuff I want, and when I complain she hits me. Walking down the hallways I see other classes, everyone wearing a coat, some wearing hats and gloves, some wearing scarfs, but everyone had a jacket except me. As usual, she is late to pick me up and I call, nobody answers.  
She pulled up 1 hour late, black trench coat, large black timberland boots, damaged blonde hair with split ends, she walks towards the front entrance where she sees me. She can’t even balance herself, swaying left and right and her long hair covering her face. Through the tangled mess of hair you can see her eyes, bags under them. She is equipped with dark baggy cargo pants. Just as she signals me to come with her, she heads out, I tell her she forgot to sign me out because I been stuck here all day. She signs it, sloppily, and we leave. I enter the car and mama gives me a kiss, and I smell her new breath, Plymouth Gin, I know she’s sad.
“What is that stench?” I say, and she responds in a raspy voice, too nasty for me to make out anything she is trying to say. The mucus in her throat, it makes everything unclear. I look down at my feet and see the white plastic bags with large glass bottles. I don’t understand, it looks just like water and she mixes it with some of the juice and when I ask for some when I am thirsty she hits me. She said I am never allowed to touch it, otherwise I would get beat. She starts up the car, it takes a few tries for the old and beat up toyota to begin because we had this car ever since grandpa was around, and we head down the street.
“Mom are you ok? You’re acting weird. What’s the proble-”
...She shuts me up before I could finish my sentence. She is swerving on the rode. Wait, is she drunk!? It all makes sense, the glass bottles, her breath, and her overall appearance, she’s drunk out of her mind. I am not up for the abuse again, not today. I am so tired of her always going out and being late to pick me up, never answering the phone when I call, always hitting me with anything in sight.
We finally get home, in one piece. She fails to park, driving up to our spot and stumbles her way into the house and collapses on the floor. She yells at me to help her up and she smacks me for having an attitude.
“I’m tired, every day I come home and you are drunk, and I act like I don’t notice, but if you touch me again I swear to God, I will put you to sleep!”
 She throws the house phone at me and I dodge it, it cracks the wall and as it falls to the hardwood floor, the battery comes out of the phone, flying to the opposite direction. 
“I warned you!”
 I yelled at the top of my lungs. My head is sweating despite how cold it is, my anxiety building up and my arm shaking. I gather enough courage to stop her from trying to tackle me, and I smack her in the face. You hear the loud clap sound, her hand on her face and as she slowly drops to the ground to lay down and cry in confusion. I have never been so angry in my life, I finally woke up from this cycle. 
“I am tired of this shit mom!”
 I never felt this adrenaline rush before. She lays down on the ground and begins sobbing. She is saying something, I lean in and she says...it’s all her fault and she never had bad intentions. Today marked the day I hit my own mother, she doesn’t understand how it feels. 
“If you could be sober for once, you would understand how I feel.”
 She lays there crying, and I walk upstairs into my room and listen to music to end this day that feels like it’s lasting forever. 

Striving for Normality

Striving For Normality


“Do you need help?”


I have been hearing variations of this question for as long as I can remember. I hear it from my teachers, I hear it from my parents, and sometimes I even hear  from complete strangers. They don’t say it, but I can tell that they pity me. After all of these years, it doesn’t phase me anymore. I guess I’ve just come to accept the fact that I’m not like everyone else. Questions like this have become a part of me that I can’t seem to shake, making me question if I am competent enough to live a regular life. I have listened to the doubts of others for too long, and have adopted them as my own.


Every morning when I wake up, I roll out of bed and take a look in the mirror, hoping that the disaster that I call my life was all just a bad dream. But that’s never the case. All I ever see is failure staring back at me; failure to be good enough for the people I care about, failure to change their opinions of me, and most of all, failure to love myself.


I can almost never go unnoticed. Everywhere I go, people stare, thanking G-d for not making them or anyone they care about like me. Honestly, if I was in their position, I would do the same.


I have grown to accept my situation, as well as the fact that there is nothing I can do to change it. I accept that this is the way things are, but I still hate it.


I wish I was like everyone else; never the center of attention, never getting special treatment, and most of all, just being treated like a normal person. Unfortunately, I have lost faith that this will ever be the case. It’s simply not possible for someone like me in today’s society.

Don’t get me wrong, there are many benefits to my situation. I always am allowed first entry into events, I get my own personal restroom everywhere I go, I always have an available parking spot, and many other things that sound great.


But no matter how great the benefits may be, I would give all of them up for a chance to walk, even if it was only for one day. I roll through the streets and dream about what this sensation would be like. I would die for the opportunity to experience this, without hesitation.


So when people who are walking down the street stop to ask me if I need help, all I can do is look down and accept their offer, hoping that maybe someday I won’t get special treatment, that maybe someday I won’t be the center of attention, that maybe someday I will be treated like any other person would be.


After all of these years of figuring out who I am, I am still left with one question. Why? Why, G-d? Why did you have to make me like this?


Good Cop, Bad Son

“Hey doctor, I need someone to talk to. Is it okay if I sit here?” I walked over to the couch and laid down.

----

My mom told me, if I ever get arrested or go to jail, she wouldn’t bail me out or assist in my early release.” I don’t understand how someone could do that to their own child, let them suffer and rot in jail. Their lives would be ruined and they wouldn’t have anything to look forward to when they get out.

My mom is an officer for the Philadelphia Police Department. Every day we leave the house we say prayers to keep everyone safe, but a prayer isn't good enough for me. They say that it’s God will if someone dies, but what stops it from being our time just because we say something so simple. Being an officer is a dangerous job. Especially with black lives matter and people shooting whoever they feel like it. How could you go out and try to do justice for other people when you have children at home, it's just selfish, and if you die helping others, would there ever be any real justice? You can’t leave your family behind because you decide to go do good.

----

I release my stress with drugs and alcohol. Being underage doesn’t mean anything, as long as I get that amazing feeling that makes me forget everything. Stealing, robbing, and killing gives me a rush. Violence, sex, and drugs, they’re the only things that keeps me going. But now that I have someone to talk to, I might not need it anymore.

----

I sat down on the new couch mom just bought and reached over to the remote. The first thing that was on the tv was about a shooting in Germantown. I thought about how crazy it was that there are so many shootings in this city. Then it finally hit me. My mom worked at the 14th district and that’s in Germantown. My heart started pounding rapidly like it was trying to come out of my chest. The thoughts and emotions that were going through my head were too much. Tears started to flow out of my eyes instead of words coming from my mouth. I was ready to kill someone, anyone if they had hurt my mom.

I remember rushing over to my neighbor's car and drove off with it. Once I got to the area, I parked it a few blocks away so that no one could find it. When I saw her being brought to an ambulance truck, my life flashed before my eyes or maybe it was just the edibles finally starting to take an effect. I started getting dizzy and fell onto the ground. When I woke up, I was in the hospital sitting next to the bed that my mother was laying in. I was examing myself, making sure that no one tried to run any test on me, but I felt like I was searching for something else too and didn’t know what it was. I looked up at my mom and saw her laying there as if she was lifeless and she was.

----

“Doctor, I don’t know what I’m going to do. I have siblings that need to be taken care of, and I’m only sixteen. What will do? She’s the only one that truly knew us and knew how to care for us. Whew. It’s okay if you don’t have an answer right now. I just came to vent.”


Eighty-Two



I’ve been shaking all day I swear. Seriously! I need to know what I got on that test! You know I studied for two weeks straight? Legit any free time I had I would open the textbook and just read it. And re-read it. And re-read it. It felt like my brain was melting. I would try to open my mouth to talk to someone and all that came out was “Cells are the basic unit of life” blah blah blah. (laughs) If I have to read one more sentence about fucking heterozygous genotypes, I’m gonna blow my brains out, seriously.


Wait, here he comes. Oh my godddd I’m so nervous. (in a joking manner)I’m gonna fail it. I just know it. If I fail, will you drop out with me? We can live a happy life under a good ‘ol bridge. Who needs education? (gets the test) Here we go. Two weeks of my life wasted on this. Lets---- (flips paper, suddenly a darker tone) Oh my god. Are you kidding me? This has to be a joke. There is no way. (to teacher) Are you sure this is mine? You’re positive? Shit. (to friends) I got an 82. No, that’s not good, shut up. It’s practically a C. You don’t get into Princeton with a C, do you? (beat, softer, slowly gets louder) I studied for two weeks straight and I got an 82. I memorized an entire chapter of the textbook. Eighty-fucking-two. You might as well just give me a live bomb, cause that’s what this is. (starts flipping through the test)


How did I get this wrong? And this? I know that! Fuck, I hate myself. I don’t know what I’m gonna do. (a realization) Crap, my parents! There gonna kill me. I can’t show them this, they’ll actually murder me in my sleep. Crap. Wait, maybe I can... (to teacher) Mr. Johnson, can I retake this? Like soon? Now, even? I can’t have this grade, I just… I can’t. What do you mean it’s too high? How is an 82 high? This is literally the lowest grade I’ve ever gotten on a test. Ever. (back to friends) What am I gonna do? I can’t have this grade and I know my parents can’t have it. I can already imagine the looks on their faces. It’s that look that makes me feel guilty, furious and miserable all at once. They’re gonna be so disappointed in me. I already know what they’ll say.


“We didn’t sacrifice our whole lives to come to a brand new country for you to get a b, Dahlia! We worked so hard for you and this is how you pay us back! I came from nothing and I still went to Harvard! You have everything and you still can’t do anything right!” Since 7th grade, all that I’ve heard from them is “college college college ivy league ivy league ivy league” I have no freedom anymore. Every hour of my day is accounted for.  (beat) Do you know why I’ve never invited you over? It’s not because I’m secretly ashamed of my immigrant parents or my dishevelled home. It’s because I have literally zero free time anymore, my parent make sure of it. They think because they had a hard life that I should too. Do you know what I do every day? Do you? Every morning I have up at 5 to make sure I look perfect because they can’t raise a trashy daughter. I drive myself to school and go to three classes barely getting down all the information they’re shoving in my brain and writing notes I can barely read. I eat a 15 minute lunch cramming down the “Perfect Nutritional Meal”. Three more classes. On to Student Government where, again, I write down the ridiculous requests that the students make, knowing that nothing will ever get done to fix them, and then after all that,do I get a break? No. Of course not. Because then I have Cross Country where I run and run until my heart is in my throat and I feel like I’m literally dying. Because god forbid I have a little fat on my stomach. (fake excitedly) Gotta Build up that resume! On to my five hours of homework! Do the math problems, read the history textbook, make the science presentation, memorize Spanish vocab, write the English essay. Still. Not. done. Study for what feels like the thousands of upcoming tests and when it's finally midnight I fall into my bed and as I fall asleep I recite memorized math formulas while simultaneously trying to remember what I had for lunch this morning. I am so sick of it.


One day I’m gonna get out of here, I swear. I’m gonna go to some bullshit college in California as far away from family as I possibly can. Fuck Princeton. (laughs) They’ll be so mad at me! But what are they gonna do about it? And maybe I won’t even go to class. Just sit in my dorm all day basking in all of my free time. I won’t even do anything with it. Just sit there. One day. One day….


(back to teacher, calm) Thanks Mr. Johnson. Sorry I’m such a brat. (beat) You know? This test doesn’t matter. None of this does. (sighs) What class do we next?