Darkness

Featured Image: “White copy – black” by Rui Miguel Félix is licensed under CC BY-NC 4.0 

Skills Showcased

This piece is showcasing my creativity and writing skills. It shows these by showcasing I can write fiction. The piece also shows write about deep topics. 

…

I investigate the mirror. I touch my soft fair skin. Brush my fingers through my straight blonde hair. I look into my deep blue eyes that seem bottomless. My face has no bumps or acne. I’m perfect.

I stare into the mirror. I’ve forgotten something. I’m missing something. What is it? My head started to hurt.

“Ella, come on downstairs and eat your breakfast,” said mom. “You need to catch the bus soon.”

My head stops hurting. I must have forgotten that. I ran out of my room and down the stairs. I stop once I reach the bottom. I examine the kitchen. The kitchen is spotless. There is no dirt or grime anywhere. The plates, utensils, and condiments were where they should be. I moved my eyes away from the kitchen and to the dining room table on the side of the kitchen. It’s just as clean as the kitchen.

Why do I think this so important?

At the dinner table, I could see a woman. That’s my mom? Yeah, that’s my mom. She is sitting at the table eating a sausage. She is blonde with a soccer mom haircut. She is still in her pajamas. Then, I see a boy to her left. His hair is perfectly cut in a boyish bob. He is wearing a white button-up shirt with jeans. He’s putting salt on his eggs. He’s…my brother. Across from him is a man.

Who is he? Oh, my d…ad. Dad. Why does that not sound, right?

My dad is a handsome man with brown eyes. He is wearing his reading glasses reading the newspaper. His plate is clean. “You finally woke up,” dad says.

“Yeah, you’re late as usual,” says my brother. “You have ten minutes before we have to catch the bus.”

I stare at him. His name is Ma…Michael. That’s his name.

“What’s wrong? Honey,” said my mom. I’m snap out of my hallucination.

“Oh nothing,” I replied. I sit down at the dinner table and start to eat my breakfast. My mom had cooked eggs, sausage, and pancakes. I eat eggs and sausage first. They were a little cold, but it’s still good. I pour syrup. I watch the brown liquid dip on my soft puffy pancakes. The liquid makes the pancakes look darker than they were before. I hate it. I stare at my pancakes. Tension building up in my chest. My head started to hurt. My skin starts to crawl. What is this? What am I? My hand touches my forehead.

“Are you ok?” my dad asked. He had reached over to me and touched my forehead. I didn’t notice he was reaching for me. I look around the table. My mom and brother look at me with concerned faces.

“Yeah, I’m good,” I says. “Just day-dreaming.” I give a nervous giggle.

My dad looks at me for a moment. “Ok,” he says. “Now, go catch the bus.”

“Oh, but I haven’t finished…” I was cut off when I look down at my plate and see my pancakes were gone.

…

I wait at the bus stop with my brother Michael. I look around. The neighborhood we live in is so nice. All the houses were two stories with primary colors. The yards were nicely trimmed. The neighborhood smells like flowers and honey. I’m amaze.  The bus pulls up. It’s a clean yellow bus.

Why do I bring this up?

“Come on sleepy head,” says my brother. He is climbing onto the bus. “You’re going to miss the bus if you keep daydreaming.”

“Sorry,” I says. I climb on behind him. Michael sits by one of his friends. They start to talk about a soccer game.

“I told you Ireland would win,” Michael says.

“Ah man I thought England would win for sure,” his friend says.

“Ella, hurry up and sit down,” Michael says.

I look around for an open seat. There are so many people on this bus, but they’re not crowding each other. Each person is in a pair.

“I don’t want to sit by you.” “Get away from me.” “Girl, sit down or I’ll start driving this bus and you can fly out of the window.” “Why do you have to sit by me?” “You’re so dark.”

“Hey Ella, come sit by me,” yells a voice.

“No, by me,” says another.

Some boys at the back of the bus were fighting over me to come sit by them. I stare in disbelief. A hand pulls at my shirt.

“Hey Ella, ignore those guys,” says a girl. “Come sit by me.”

This girl’s name is Mary. She’s my…. best friend. I sit by her. The bus starts to move.

“Are you ok Ella?” says Mary. “You’re a bit off.”

“Yeah, just sleepy,” I says.

“Oh,” Mary says. “Well I watch Beauty last night and oh my god.

Mary went into a long rant about the latest episode. I just look out the window beside her acting like I was listening.

It’s so nice. “Why does the bus have to pick her up?” “She’s making the neighborhood look worse.”

“Abel shouldn’t have done that to Chris,” says Mary. “You know what I mean.” I snapped out of my hallucination.

“Yeah, I get what you mean,” I say.

The bus stops in front of the school. Draco High School a sign reads. The school is big. It is made up of brick and stone with plenty of windows.

I walk off the bus with Mary by my side. She’s still talking about Beauty. I like that show. Yes, I like that show and in love with Angel Scott. Yes, that’s right.

We walk into the school. The floors and walls are all so shiny. It looks like it was just waxed. Everything is made up of primary colors except black. No black. Why is there no black?

“Come on,” says Mary. “We have to get to class.”

I’m pulled down the hall to a room marked Room 215.

This is English class. I remember. We walk into the class. I look around. Everyone is talking at their desk and at someone else’s desk.

Look. Look. It a monkey. I didn’t know we have a zoo now. She’s so dark. Why is this school bringing in weirdos now?

I shake my head. I look at the class at the classroom. People are still talking.

“Ella, come sit down,” says Mary.

Mary pulls me over to my desk which is in the middle of the room by the window.

“So, about Beauty,” Mary says. Before she could get started again a boy walks over to my desk.

“It’s my favorite girl,” he says.

He kisses me on the cheek. 

“Hey Gabriel, we were talking here,” I say.

“Oh sorry, Mary I’m just trying to talk to my girlfriend.

Girlfriend? I have a boyfriend, but I thought I was…. No. I like boys. I like Gabriel.

I blush. “Hey Gabriel.” The bell rings for class to start.

“Love you,” Gabriel says.

“Love you too,” I reply.

…

After dinner, I run up to my room. “I’m so tired,” I says.

I start to take off my clothes. I look in the mirror. This isn’t right.

“Yes, it is, I” says a voice.

“Who said that?” I say.

“I, your mirror,” says the mirror.  “You are perfect.”

“No, I’m not,” I says . “Missing something. I’m missing me.”

“You are missing nothing,” the mirror says. “All that is not perfect about you is gone.”

“What was not perfect about me?

“Well, your eyes, your hair, and your SKIN.”

“My skin.”

“Yes, you were black and now you’re white. You’re perfect.”

“I want to be black again.”

“Let me show you something.”

I’m pulled into the mirror. I’m in the bathroom. I look around. My eyes fall onto the shower and I see myself; my 9-year-old self. Her coarse hair is made into an afro. Her skin is as black as a roasted coffee bean.  I wasn’t naked, and the shower wasn’t on. So, why is she in the shower? Then, I see a scrubber in her hand. She starts to scrub her skin. She scrubs and scrubs and scrubs and scrubs. I watch in horror. Blood starts dripping from her arm, but my younger self doesn’t stop. She keeps scrubbing and scrubbing and scrubbing.

“Please stop,” I say.

My younger self keeps going. “Please stop,” I say.

She keeps going. My cries were not being heard. After a few more seconds, she stops.

My younger self sits on the cold floor and looks at her arm. A bloody hole is where some of the skin was.

“I can’t get rid of it,” she says. “I hate you.” I hate my skin.” She sits in the shower and starts to cry.

I cry.

You have only been at school for a month and kids were brutally bullying you for skin color. Your mother had worked hard to put you into a good rich school, and then you just get bully. See what happens when you will yourself to be who you are.

I’m still crying, but I notice that I’m back in my room. I can’t go back. I just can’t. I don’t want to be like that again.

You’re right and you don’t have to go back. You can be perfect forever. We can be per fect together. Your fair skin will always be fair. Your blue eyes will always be deep. Your hair will always be as gold as gold.

I stop crying and investigate my mirror. I see myself.  “I’m perfect,” I said.

“Yes, you are,” said the mirror.

“I’m…we’re perfect,” I say.

…

Days pass and live in bliss. My family is wonderful. My school is wonderful. Everyone loves me. No one says anything rude or mean to me. I feel good, but I always feel like something is missing. What is missing? I have everything a family who doesn’t keep the house in trash, friends who love me, a boyfriend, and a father. What could I miss? I’m perfect.

Father and I sit at the lake. We watch the water as the wind blows by and fish try to catch bugs. I sit there with a fishing rod in hand. My father is teaching me to fish.

“How do you like fishing?” he ask.

“It’s so boring,” I say back.

Father laughs. “Yeah, it is,” father says.

“Then why did you take me?”

“I just wanted to spend some time with baby girl.”

I smile. My heart grows hot. This what I want.

“Is this what you truly want?” he asked.

“What?” I asked.

“You feel like something is missing, don’t you? You feel like everything is perfect, but it’s not.”

“Everything is,” I was cut off.

“I know you Ella. You are my baby girl and for you to find out what you are missing I have to go,” he said.

“Go, go way?” I asked.

“I have to leave now,” he replied. “Bye”

Father got up from his fishing and started to walk away.

“Dad,” I said. He waves. “Dad!” I get up and go after him.

“Dad!” I’m running, but he’s faster than me.

“Dad!” I’m a little girl now.

“Dad! Please. Dad!” I’m ready behind. I try to grab his shirt, but as I do he disappears. I look around for him.

“Dad! Come back Dad!”

A room appears around me. It’s a classroom. Kids point at me. “You’re so dark.” “You’re so ugly.” “Is that why your dad left you?” “That’s what your kind does?” “They don’t like responsibilities.” “You’re a mistake.”

The room starts spinning around. The kids getting louder and taller, then it went blank.

“Stop it,” I said ???.  I open my eyes.

“Hye-Rin”, I said.

“Stop bullying her,” said Hye-Rin.

“Of course small eyes would protect the monkey,” said one boy.

“Don’t you eat monkeys,” said one girl.

“No, but I’ll punch the one I see right in front of me,” Hye-Rin said.

The boy backs up a little.

“Fine you and monkey will be left alone?” the boy said. He looked at me with anger in his eyes and walked off with the other kids.

Hye-Rin looks at me. “You have more confidence in yourself,” said Hye-Rin.

 “These kids will eat you up if you don’t.”

Hye-Rin kicks a soccer ball at her feet. “Do you want to play soccer?”

“But, I’m black.”

“And I’m Korean, so what?” Hye-Rin said back.

I smile. “Sure.”

…

I wake up in my bed and run to the mirror.

“Enough is enough,” I said to the mirror. “Want my old life back. I want my skin back.”

“I’m sorry about father,” said the mirror. “I don’t know what was up with him, but he has been fixed.”

“That’s not my father,” I said. “He left a long time ago and he wasn’t white.  I’m not white.”

“But, you are now and you are prefect,” said the mirror.

“I’m not perfect. I’m not me,” I say.

“I have black mom and brother, father who left years ago, a girlfriend, and I’m black with coarse hair.”

“That is not what you,” it replies. “What we want?”

“That’s what I want,” I say.

“No, it ISN’T.” The mirror image of me grabs me by the neck and pulls me into the mirror.

I’m in a black room. I’m back to my black self with my white-self choking me.

“That is not what you want,” it says.  “THAT IS NOT WHAT YOU WANT.”

I punch the thing in the face and kick it off me. I catch my breath. I run in the opposite direction I kick the monster.

What is that thing? Why was it in the mirror? How does it know what I want? Then, something clicks in my head. The monster gets out of its headache and starts chasing after me.

I stop and face the monster. I hold my arms out. When it gets close to me I hug it.

“I’m sorry,” I say. It screams at me.

“I’m sorry.” It goes for my neck.

“I’m sorry.” It stops fighting. I hug it hard. “I’m sorry. You’re me.”

“For years, I’ve said I hate you. I hate my skin. I hate the fact that I’m dark. I felt you were a part of all my problems. My father leaving, my mom and brother being weird, and the reason people didn’t like me. You were just trying to protect me. That’s why you made this world.”

“Yes,” it say. “However, I was given this power by you know who.”

“I know,” I say. “But, I’m happy. I love you skin.”

My skin pulls away from me. It looks me in the eye. It’s no longer in its white form. I look like me. Its skin as beautiful as the night sky. Its brown eyes are shining like hazelnuts and its black coarse hair as puffy as ever. It is crying.

“I love you too,” it say and it disappears.