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Surviving the Fall

A gasped for air as I reached the top. I shivered in the icey winds. I was on top of the world. I scooted to the edge of the old rotting wooden platform. It was the one so many people before me had jumped from. So many white people.

I curled my toes over the edge. I raised my airs out like a bird. I put my body weight on my toes, and I started leaping forward. Gravity quickly took over, and soon I was cascading down toward the sea. A bird flew past me, but I didn't move. If I didn't keep my form, I would fall on the rocks and die, like many others had before me. So many white people.

I slowly moved me hands above my head, putting me into streamline position. I quickly glanced down to make sure I was on track. I was. As I neared the water, joy flushed through me. I was about to do something many others had done before me. So many white people.

But, I am not like them. I am not like those white people. I am different. I am a black person.

I hit the water. I had done something no other black person had done. Now my brothers could do the same as me, except they will know they are like me and those white people, because we black people are just as good as those white people. All the many of the white people. We are the same. We are all human beings, no matter of our skin color. But they don't understand. All those white people.





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