February 10, 2010
By Anonymous

My heart beat so rapidly, I could not hear my irregular breathing. My head, banging, against my enormous skull. My head felt as if my incoherent brain disconnected from my still-stunned heart. I remember that night better than I remember my own name. That night changed me and my life for good. My attitude, maturity, and responsibility jumped to a level of incredibility. That dark tragic night is clearer than crystal under a microscope in my thick skull. That night sort of molded me into a strong and independent person. A person who holds a jaw-dropping secret. A secret she can never reveal.

“Ha, ha, ha” Travis and I bellowed as we crashed into the deteriorating corner store. We clumsily staggered into a few dull brown boxes. I fell on top of a light but stiff box and Travis purposely toppled onto me. I remember his earthly smell and liqourized breath. I wondered if I smell like that, too. Still laughing, he roughly helped me up. For some weird reason I do not remember what we went into the store for. I do not remember what we got either. We barely got a foot out the door when the store owner George roared the dreadful words we detested “Empty your pockets”. Travis who’s always on his feet even when he is not one hundred percent himself, said “is it ‘because we’re black”. I quickly “whispered” to Travis that he was not black and that he would only make the situation worse. What I thought to be a whisper seemed more like a public announcement.

George, (who if I must say, and I must, looked like a hungry unshaven gorilla who desperately needed the sharpest razor known to man to remove his repulsive facial hair, but I’m not judging) grabbed us by the collar of our shirts which caused the immense amount of explicit drinks to fall out of my enormous pink and white Roxy bag, that Travis stowed in there when we left his house. George the gargantuan gorilla (not judging) seemed to be moving his mouth but for some blessed reason his words were not entering my ears. Out of the blue, he slammed us into the towering beer cooler. It is so weird how I remember that small detail compared to the others in my night. I mean he knocked us over with such intensity, the blue and white beer cooler tossled over, knocking over the chilling ice and cool beer. What a waste! When George finished running his mouth, he laid out the choices for our possible consequences. Either we called one of our parents or he would call the cops. So he said. He sort of let us discuss our options.
“Who are we going to call?” Travis blubbered.
“Your mom?” I questioned clueless.
“Uh, are you out of your mind? She’d kill me before she found out what happened and my life is as precious as a sterling silver diamond ring. So how about your dad?” He forever explained.
“Uh…” I looked around dully and puzzled.
“He’s lenient, right?”
“Um, yeah, sure?” I doubly answered

I hesitantly and clumsily pulled my white, lined with aqua blue, phone out. I dialed and re-dialed the same wrong number. “Ugh” I fustretedly groaned. My life would be so much easier if we just told George to call the cops, I told myself. “Just call him” Travis impatiently sighed. For the second time I pulled out my phone and slowly dialed in the correct digits. Even though my barely around father was laid-back I was still nervous. The phone rang six times before he finally picked up.

“Hey Sweets” My dead beat father exclaimed.
“Sup, dad” I said trying my best not to slur, but the smart man my father tried to be almost always came out at the worst of times.
“Why do you sound like that, what’s going on?” he automatically interrogated. “Why does something have to be wrong for me to call you?”
HONK-HONK, I heard in the background. “Dad your driving?” I quickly asked before he even had the chance to answer my previous question. The line was so silent I could barely hear crickets.

“DAD, DAD, DAD!” I shouted as softly but loudly as I could without being disrespectful. The connection seemed to go dead for a few but long as a giraffe’s neck moments. I pressed the phone harder to my ear. Listening intently in between the static, honking, and shouting. Those are the three noises that changed my life!

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.


MacMillan Books

Aspiring Writer? Take Our Online Course!