Fight For Me | Teen Ink

Fight For Me

May 6, 2024
By Epalu_25, Lenexa, Kansas
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Epalu_25, Lenexa, Kansas
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Author's note:

I wrote this piece because I believe it's important to tell stories of the underdog, those who have been wronged and rise to seek their justice. This short story captures the picture of a young Black girl's fight to prove her innocent existence and the narration of a mixed (half-white, half-black) classmate of hers who witnessed the brutality released on her and his struggle to navigate the two worlds that he walks between. Though this writing is short and has an open-ended conclusion with the reader left to think about how the rest of the story plays out, it doesn't take away from its impact. You don't always get to see the result since things aren't linear. There's no set way of predicting how someone's tale ends. But that's the beauty, it's left to the reader's interpretation.

The author's comments:

Intro

January 6th 10:48 pm,West 95th Ln 081321

Suspect was a 5’6 black female,looks to be 17

Resisted detainment by officer on scene

Reasonable force was used in order to “help” suspect comply 

                          ***

I can’t breathe.

The concrete is rough against my cheek. I feel something warm dripping down from the side of my head that dribbles into a puddle next to my eyes.

It’s red. Blood. I feel bile rise in my throat but the knee crushing the back of my neck doesn't allow me room to retch.

Or to move. Or to breathe. I can’t breathe. Cold metal digs into my wrists that adds a sting to the searing pain of my arms being harshly twisted behind my back.

 Dark spots have started to bleed into my vision as the world grows dim but I see blue eyes meet mine.I open my mouth to scream for the eyes but nothing comes out.

 Nothing can come out. I can’t breathe. Blue eyes  is not coming to save me. Blue eyes is not going to protect me. I’m all alone.

The last thing I remember feeling before I stop moving, before everything stops moving is fear. I don’t want to die. Please don’t let me die. I don’t deserve to die. Help me blue eyes, I can’t breathe. Help.

                                   ***

It was all a blur. The girl. The cop. The fight. The way the officer picked her up like a rag doll and slammed her body into the ground.
I remember the sickening sound of her skull making contact with the asphalt as blood poured out from the side. I can almost feel the weight of the knee that’s crushing her neck, it’s wrong. It’s all wrong. The cop, the blood, the knee. All of it.
I have to do something but I can’t. My feet are rooted to the ground and it’s like my bones are made of ice. Solid and cold, I don’t feel a single thing.
Brown eyes meet mine and I’m entranced by their depth. They seem to call to me. They want help.
They need help. Her mouth opens as if she’s going to scream for me. For someone. Anyone. To save her, protect her.
That someone should be me but I can’t force myself to move from my spot, to reach out to her so she’s not alone. I’m so close yet so far.
Her brown eyes have long since floated shut and her body is limp. The cop above her has still not removed his knee, the stance he holds is nonchalant. Bored almost, as if this were just another day in the office. Another day in his life.
He makes me sick. I make myself sick because I didn’t help. I didn't help brown eyes.
                                  ***

The author's comments:

Transition 

Breaking news!!! A local 17 year old girl was arrested last night in the suburbia neighborhood of Kenwood at a house party.At this moment there is no further information, this is still a developing story…

The sharp click of my heels ring out in the early morning. The sun has just begun to peek its face from behind the far line of the sky.

 I unlock my car and gracefully seat myself in front of the wheel while I place my shiny, leather briefcase next to me. I buckle the seatbelt and adjust the rearview mirror as I wait for my car to warm up. It’s not freezing but the early January air is biting, making me shiver in my thin suit jacket.

 I rest my gaze upon the house me and Richard own. It sits at the top of the slightly sloped drive, immense and white. The windows effortlessly shined, the front lawn pieces impeccably placed, the paint smooth and unchipped. Sharp and pristine, not a thing out of place. 

Despite the cold exterior of the house, a single light shines from the glass of the window pane from the top room exudes comfort, almost like a beacon beckoning a lost ship.

 Damon’s room. Richard perhaps? I shake my head to clear the thought, no he never goes in there. Ever. The light extinguishes. 

I hear the sound of wheels being rolled against concrete and I turn to see Anthony taking out the trash. He’s dressed in a gray sweatsuit with matching gray shoes.

 One of his earbuds hangs from its cord, swinging in the breeze as he walks the can to the end of his driveway. He whips it around and straightens it so it matches the rest lining the street. 

He’s always such good help to his mother. Unlike most kids like him, he’s well mannered, groomed, non-aggressive and very very handsome.

Pausing, Anthony glances up at where I sit and waves at me with his friendly smile. 

 In routine, I raise my hand to return the gesture and watch as he pads back up to his house, disappearing inside the garage. The huge door shuts with a creak of finality and I am left to keep sitting and waiting.

The soft heat from the car has finally begun to creep into my body banishing the last of my shivers. I shift to reverse, slowly backing out,making sure to take extra care that the road is clear. 

I put my foot on the gas and roll down the street, passing houses that look just like mine.

 Clean and perfect. Just like they always have been. And always will be. So long as I live in this neighborhood.

                                  ***

I awaken to soft rustling.

 I poke my head out from my ratty blanket to see the girl setting down a paper bag of what smells like freshly made food. 

Carefully sitting up so my back pain doesn't flare, I allow the scent to drift  in my face and make my mouth water. 

She looks at me once I’ve sat up and I’m struck by her brown eyes. I always am. They seem to hold wisdom far beyond her years, far more than mine had at least when I was her age. When I was young and had my whole life ahead of me instead of wasting it with the bottle. 

I open my mouth to thank her but nothing comes out. She waits for a second but just smiles at me kindly before she leaves.

The small, metallic ballerina figure hooked to her bag bouncing as she goes. I watch her walk down to the corner of the street and turn left out of my sight. 

She’s here every day like clockwork in the morning dropping me off sandwiches, rice, soup, fruit, or occasionally a small dessert packed into containers or ziploc.

 After I’m done, I do my best to clean the container and silverware she gives me, placing it carefully back in the bag so when she walks back by me in the afternoon, it's all ready to go for her to simply grab and keep walking. It's the least I can do. 

Since I can’t utter even the simplest thank you. I feel guilty but she never makes me uncomfortable about it.

Today it’s broth with noodles, soft carrots and some sort of spicy meat. Plastic utensils are in the bottom of the bag with a few napkins, apple slices, a still cool juice box and a brownie. 

I eat the brownie first, letting the richness coat my taste buds in heavenly bliss. It reminds me of a distant home I once had and the woman I shared it with. 

She had brown eyes too. I loved her dearly. 

Now she’s gone and all I have left to cling to is this sweet sweet morsel that allows me to visit her in my mind.

 God bless the generous. 

                                ***

“Yo, gang!” I turn to see Jensen making his way over to where I sit with Matt on my left and James on my right.

 MJ and Conrad sit across from me,an expression of utter annoyance pasted on the latters. Jensen drags a chair up to our table and I wince at the screeching sound the bottom of the legs make.

 Dropping down into the seat, he claps my shoulder in greeting and flashes a quick smile at the rest of the guys. “Long time no see,” he greets cherrily. “What have y'all been up to lately,” he says.

“Oh nothing much, just been going to work and school, all the usual,” I reply.

“You would know if you were ever around anymore,” Conrad mutters as he makes a point to stare directly down at his meal instead of at Jensen.

 “Just been busy Con, nothing personal,” Jensen tries to assure.

 “Whatever,” Conrad responds with a roll of his eyes

Ignoring the chilly reception Jensen turns to the rest of us to catch up.We talk sports for a bit with him dropping the occasional joke. 

Little by little though Conrad begins to thaw as he joins our aimless chatter, even laughing along with us when Jensen cracks a new one about something dumb but has us all gasping for air.

And it starts to feel like it’s always been. Perfect.

 “God you are so stupidly funny, it’s gross Jen,” Conrad says as he collects breaths to stop his bubbling laughter. 

“It’s one of my best qualities,” Jensen replies as he makes a terrible attempt to waggle his eyebrows in a charming manner.

 “Enzo thinks I’m super funny.”

 And with that, the temperature is back to icy. Conrad stops laughing and just looks at Jensen in an irritated manner.

 “Why does it matter what he thinks?” 

Jensen’s smile falters as he realizes his mistake in mentioning the disliked party of one at the table. “It doesn't,” he rushes to say. 

“Then why do you always bring him up in everything?” 

“I don’t, not really Con,” Jensen says. “I just bring him up because he’s my close friend. And I like to talk about my close friends.” he states plainly. 

“Didn't know you considered someone you met a couple of months ago, you're close friend.”

Jensen shrugs his shoulders and says, “guess we just have different ideas of close friends.” 

Conrad says nothing in response.

Turning his attention to me he says, “I need a favor Ant.”

“What’s up?” I question as I begin eating my lunch

“So, you know that huge bash Enzo was supposed to throw?” 

I nod my head as a signal for him to keep going.

“Well,” Jensen continues, “he can’t throw it at his place anymore and so he’s looking for a new location.”

 I think I know where this is going now as I see Conrad’s face grow stormy.

“If I could have it at my house, I would but you know my place with all the remodeling…”

 He lets his sentence drop off as he stares at me with hope in eyes.

“So you were wondering if I could throw it instead,” I finish for him.

 “Just what I was thinking! I’ll just go ahead and let Enzo know tha—” but before he can whip his phone out to text, Conrad interrupts:

 “That wasn't an actual answer,” he snipes, throwing Jensen a glare. “Plus you already know Ant doesn't like parties.” 

“Well, I don’t remember asking you about it. Ant can speak for himself,” Jensen says with a bit of bite in his voice. 

Conrad’s cheeks turn red with anger as he glowers at Jensen. “He doesn't need to change himself all because you want to throw some lame party for your boy.”

“I never said anything about him needing to change. I was just asking if he could host so chill out Connie,” Jensen says mockingly.

Conrad tenses and looks like he wants to jump Jensen, but before he can leap over the table to hit him I intervene.

“I mean, I guess that’s fine since my parents will be out of town anyways as long as there’s not like a ton of people coming.”

 Conrad snaps his head to look at me in offended surprise, opening his mouth to protest but I shake my head at him to be quiet. Not now. Screwing his jaw shut, he starts to aggressively dig into his food.

  MJ and Matt give each other a look I can’t read but say nothing. Jensen’s face lights up in excitement as he begins to type away on his phone in a flurry.

 “Cool, cool, just me and Enzo and a couple of the other guys will be there with their girlfriends. I’m also inviting that one girl, uh, what’s her name? She’s got those big brown eyes and a nice waist.”

 Jensen trails off as he tries to remember more than the girl's body he’s describing. “Pretty sure she’s a transfer from Southeast off of West Elm .”

“Aaliyah. Aaliyah Jackson is her name.”

We all turn when we hear James utter her name softly. “She’s in my chemistry class, were lab partners. I don’t know her too well, but she’s nice. She always talks to me,” he says with slight hesitation as if he’s unsure about speaking up.

 Jensen perks up at this and scoots in even closer to the table, his foot knocking against mine. “Is she involved in sports or anything?” 

“I’m curious what she’s into since I’ve only seen her around,” he says eagerly with his face leaning in James’ direction. 

James swallows nervously but says, “She mentioned something about doing dance because I saw a little ballerina figure on her backpack and asked about it, but she said had to quit because her mom couldn’t afford it anymore.”

 At that comment, Jensen’s face sours slightly but he just shrugs. “Mhm, that’s not a surprise, especially for someone like her but she’s gorgeous.”

 James shifts uncomfortably at Jensen’s tone and I open my mouth to change the subject but this time Conrad beats me to it. 

“What is that supposed to mean, dude!?” His raised voice causes the people at the tables across from us to turn and stare. MJ just scowls at them until they go back to their conversations. 

“Oh chill out Con,” Jensen snaps, “I was just stating a fact.”

 “Real awful of you to say about one of the only black girls in our grade. Ant here is black too, but you would never say that to him.”

“He’s only half, that can’t even begin to count, Jensen retorts”

Conrad lets out a harsh laugh as I squirm uncomfortably in my seat.

“Ant, how does that make you feel?” Conrad questions me as he turns my way with his piercing green eyes.

“Oh, don’t put him in the middle of it,” Jensen snaps. “That’s not fair and you know it!”

“How is it unfair to ask the only person of color at this table their opinion on your bigoted comment?”

“Because he’s more white than black anyways, but that’s never been an issue for me. In my opinion he just wouldn't know as well as someone who is full black or african, whatever they call it these days.”

“Mhm, seems a bit like it's bordering on the line of being a bit racist to me,” Conrad says.

“Pfft, like you would know, you're as white as me, Connie,” Jensen says sarcastically.

“Even though Ant is only half black, he’s still closer to knowing than any of us,” James mumbles. 

I have continued to sit in silence as their words swirl around me. I’ve never been ashamed to admit that I’m half black because it’s honestly never been an issue within our group. I honestly have a hard time convincing people that I’m black in the first place because I’m super pale and my hair is more to the softer side of curls but I have black ancestry all the same. I’ve just never realized how much it gets pushed aside.

Conrad smirks triumphantly at James’ agreement as he gives Jensen his signature told you so look that always manages to piss people off. It always pisses Jensen off.

Jensen narrows his eyes and I notice his fists clench where they rest on the table. “What is your problem? You’ve not been yourself lately Con especially with you just throwing the word racist around.”  His fingers move to make air quotes when he says it.

“You! You are my problem, ever since you started hanging out with Enzo and his group, you’ve started acting like a fool. You never used to say stupid stuff like that!!” Conrad yells.

“I’m not the one who’s been weird as hell! It’s like ever since I started talking about him, you’ve iced me out. I haven't done anything to deserve this. And I already said, that comment meant nothing harmful. I’m not trying to be an rude.

“You’ve literally bailed on me every time I ask if you wanna come hang, you never respond to texts, sent by me or the group and every single time I try to talk to you Enzo swoops in like the vulture he is!”

“I don’t know why you're so mad about me being friends with him! He’s a super chill dude. If you ever gave him a damn cha-”

“No, absolutely not! He's stupid,” Conrad snarls.

“See, that's your issue, you never give people a chance!”

“No, I don’t give stuck up pieces of crap a chance!”

“Jesus Christ, just quit complaining! It’s getting really old Conrad,” Jensen snips impatiently. “Just because you don’t like Enzo doesn't mean you have to be rude and it also means you shouldn’t be accusing me of being racist!”

Conrad pushes his chair out harshly, gathering his stuff up. “I’m bouncing.” He turns my way, looking right into my eyes. “You guys can catch me later.”

 And with that I watch as he stalks off, the hard set of his shoulders getting small as he leaves my line of vision. 

The silence at the table is thick. Jensen sighs irritatedly as he runs his fingers through his floppy brown hair.

“Look, I didn’t mean to piss him off and I didn’t mean anything bad about you only being half black, it doesn't matter to me.”

“It’s fine,” I tell him, but you should try to say sorry later to Conrad to make things up”.

Jensen opens his mouth to say something but decides against it because he shuts it.

“Just text me about if you change your mind about the party. See you guys later.” 

And with that Jensen is up and gone before I can say anything.I turn to look at the rest of them, biting my lip unsurely because of the fight. James just gives me a pitiful look and turns to his food. 

MJ looks me up and down saying, “Are you sure you wanna host this?”

I shrug indifferently and reply, “It’s just a party, what’s the harm?”

“You know Con is not gonna be down for this at all, you see how he reacted to all of it,” MJ says with uncertainty in his voice. “No way, he’ll come tonight.”

“Don’t worry,” I say. “I’ll get him to come around, trust.” I’m not actually confident Conrad will say yes, but I have to try. For my sake and for the sake of his and Jensen’s friendship.

Matt just shakes his head and says, “I don’t know man, I think you just going to hit a wall with Con plus anything with Enzo is a bad idea but if you want to do it, then we’ll be there.”

MJ and James nod their agreement and I shoot Jensen a quick text to confirm for tonight.

With the ring of the bell signaling the end of our lunch period, we all start to clean up our leftovers. Pushing my chair in, I wave bye to James and Matt as they split from us to head to the history hall. 

I have english and MJ has spanish but we always walk together until we part at the stairs with him going up and me continuing on down the hallway.

Usually we chat back and forth but today we are quiet, both of us lost in our own thoughts. I keep replaying the conversation that happened between us all over and over.

Even though I hate to admit it, Conrad is right. Jensen has changed. He’s become different from the Jensen I remember. The comments about me and Aaliyah are a bit unnerving.

 I’ve never been one to be bothered when people say things about race, it’s never been important to me. But something keeps bugging me about the conversation and I can’t put my finger on what it is.

Maybe what Jensen said really did get to me. But why would it? He said he didn’t mean it and I believe him. Really I do.

We get to the stairs and MJ heads up. I watch him go as my stomach turns. Belief will have to be enough for now. It always has been.

                              ***

The author's comments:

Transition

The recent arresting of a 17 year old black female has the Minneapolis Police Department under fire from locals who claim the arrest was based on race rather than actual crime. Officers Smith and Armada were dispatched the other night to a house in the Kenwood area after a neighbor called the station to report a black female minor who was acting in an aggressive manner towards the other minors with her. Officers on scene attempted to reason with the minor but she resisted commands by the officers to simply comply.

                                    ***

Loud ringing shoves me out of sleep. I grope for the lamp switch next to the bed and clench my eyes to keep the searing light spilling into my room from blinding me. The ringing continues.

 Cracking my eyelids open slightly, I grab my phone and flip it over to see who’s calling.

A random string of numbers that I’ve never seen before float across my screen and I swipe the call away to end the annoying noise.

I check to see if there are any new texts from Aaliyah but the last one reads 10:05 when I told her she needed to be home no later than 12.

The time reads 11:08 so she still has a bit before she needs to be home. But I’m not worried, my baby girl is a good one.

Swinging out of my small bed, I throw on my old gray hoodie and shuffle slowly out of my room.

I shiver as I enter the little kitchen off of the living room and put some water in my old, brass kettle.

Setting it carefully on the stove, I wait for it to heat up so I can make some tea for when Aaliayh gets home.

I hear something vibrate and pick my phone up from where it lies where I placed it on the counter when I came in here.

It’s the same number. Probably another stupid credit card company calling to tell me that until I pay down the amount I’ve used, they're cutting me off. I swipe it away again.

Just another thing to add to the list on top of the almost empty fridge, the cut heat and piling bills, this is the last thing I need.

My phone rings again and I don’t need to look at the front to see who it is. I have half a mind to pick up the phone and tell whatever is calling me this late to but instead I just take a deep breath, collect myself and pick it up.

I am greeted by the soft voice of a woman on the other side of the call.

“Is this Norma Jackson?”

“Yes this is her speaking,” I say in the best polite voice I can muster. There’s a pause and some quick scratches on what sounds like paper.

“This is Saint Theresa’s Hospital calling in reference to your daughter, uh, Aaliayh Jackson.”

My blood runs cold. The word hospital rings in my ears and I tightly squeeze the phone. Afraid that if I lose my grip on it, I’ll lose my grip on reality.

. Why are you calling?”My voice comes out harsher than I mean it to but I’m scared. I’m so scared. I hold my breath as she pauses again, waiting for what she’s going to say.

“Your daughter was recently involved in an incident that has left her with some severe injuries and we wanted to go ahead and reach out to let you know to head here if you want to be with her.”

Time stops. My baby is hurt. My baby is all alone at the hospital with strangers and it's all my fault. I never should have let her go to that party.

“I’m coming, I’m coming right now,” I tell the voice; the woman speaking, whoever is on the other side, whoever just told me that my baby is in pain.

I hang up the phone and run out to the car sitting on the cracked driveway. 

Jumping in, I slam the gear into drive, backing out faster than is probably safe. I don’t care.

 I have to get to my baby. I have to save my baby.

                                   ***

I watch as a rusty brown sedan that looks like it’s seen the pits of hell rolls to a stop in front of Anthony’s house. 

I see a short girl with dark skin get out dressed in jeans and a leather jacket with her hair pulled back. 

She shuts the car door and waves bye to whoever’s driving as she heads up the driveway. 

I narrow my eyes as she passes by one of the shiny Tesla’s parked on the pavement. Stopping she leans closer to the car, peering into the windows.

Then she does a quick lap around the car and once she’s satisfied, heads to the front door of the house.

Strange. I don’t like it. I don’t like her.

I need to make sure nothing bad happens. To the car or to the other kids there. Sure it’s a bit late and the party is a bit loud but they're just high schoolers having fun.

I am still wary of the girl though. 

She doesn't look like she belongs and when something doesn't belong it usually tries to replace what does.

I won’t let that happen.

                                    ***

There are definitely a lot more people here than Jensen promised. The guys had all arrived early to help me set up, minus Conrad for obvious reasons.

 I had texted and called him multiple times but he hadn't answered, having elected to ignore me all together. As the night went on, and everyone filtered in, I held out hope that I would catch a glimpse of his green eyes among the many who came in and out but he was nowhere to be seen. 

Currently, I’m sitting on my couch with James who is dozing on and off (parties always make him drowsy). Matt and MJ are kicking it in the corner with two girls who pulled up a little bit ago. 

I see Jensen standing across the room by Enzo’s side as he entertains a large group of guys from the football team with their girlfriends who are sprawled on their laps looking like several bundles of  limbs.

They're all obviously tipsy, with Enzo and Jensen bordering on drunk, but they manage to stay upright as they goof around. 

 A blonde girl has her arm resting on Enzo’s shoulder and she’s looking at him enraptured as he animates his story. Everyone laughs and Jensen is slapping his back the way he does with me and I can’t help but be a bit jealous.

 As quick as it comes, I squash it. It’s not his fault that he’s good at making friends. It’s mine for not wanting to be part of the mix more.

Jensen laughs again but this time is looking up at someone off from the group. I follow his gaze and see that it lands on that girl. Aaliyah.

She is pretty just like Jensen described. On the smaller side but with a solid figure. Her microbraids are pulled back in a low ponytail and she’s dressed in a white crop underneath a skinny black leather jacket paired with ripped jeans.

 She had gotten here a little bit ago and James had gone up to greet her with a drink. Since then she had just stood close to the door and watched everyone mill about. 

She wasn’t standoffish in the way that you thought she believed she was better than everyone else, but more in the way she felt uncertain where she was supposed to belong.

Nudging James to come with me, I get up and head over to her. When I reach where she stands, I clear my throat and thrust out my hand in introduction.

“Hey, I’m Anthony! It was Aaliyah right?”

She grins and returns my smile, shaking my hand. “Yup that’s me.”

“Are you having fun so far?” I ask in an attempt to make small talk. I feel bad that she’s stood over here by herself for this long.

“Mhm, if I’m being honest parties aren't really my scene but your friend over there was very insistent that I come.”

She points over to where Jensen is and he throws her a flirty grin with a wave. Aaliayh blushes slightly but returns the gesture.

I see him lean down and whisper something in Enzo’s ear as he looks in our direction now. Enzo smirks and claps him on the back, shooing him away to us.

Stumbling over, Jensen manages to make it to me where he throws his arm around me with a loud greeting.

“Heyyyy, Ant, what’s up man?”

His breath is hot on my cheek and his pupils are a bit blown from the intake of too much alcohol. I personally don’t drink that much, but when he and Enzo had pulled up with a ton of beer, I didn't pass. 

I’m a bit buzzed myself but the feeling is small. I prefer to not get drunk. I wrap my arm around him tighter to give him more support.

“It’s hot as hell in here,” he whines. “Let’s go out for some air.”

James gives me a look but heads to the door. I turn to Aaliayh to invite her out with us. “Wanna come? It is a bit stuffy in here”.

“Sure,” she says with a nice smile and heads out after James and in front of us to go outside.

The front of my house has a wraparound porch that has some chairs and a small table on it. I help Jensen sit in one of the chairs and he automatically slumps down into it.

I take the one across from him and James sits with Aaliyah on the smooth wood floor in front of us.

“Switch with her Ant,” Jensen tells me. He turns to me with a wink so I motion at Aaliyah to stand up and sit in my spot.

She looks like she wants to protest but doesn't as she gets up into the chair.

We sit in awkward silence for a minute and I open my mouth to say something to dispel it but before I can,I hear a rapid succession of obnoxious honks.

Lifting up slightly, I see Condrad’s jeep pulling up in front of the porch. He parks and clambers out of his car coming up to where we are.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” I tease as Conrad ascends the stairs.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he says playfully as he shoots me a grin. “Thought I would just drop in real quick to see what the fuss is about.”

“I’m glad you came. Was sure you weren't since you ignored me.”

Conrad looks sheepish as he rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry, Ant, was still kinda mad about earlier.” He side eyes Jensen where he sits next to Aaliayh but says nothing. 

“It’s alright, I understand. I’m glad you're here now, though. We just came out for some fresh air.”

I tug his arm to come sit with us and he slouches down between me and James on the floor. 

Looking up at Aaliyah, he greets her nicely and she smiles at him. Jensen has so far ignored Conrad joining us and has continued to stare at Aaliyah.

“You're high-key hot,” Jensen states loudly as he leans closer to her, his eyes doing an intrusive sweep of her body.

She shifts uncomfortably but maintains a polite smile as Jensen is now all up in her space.

“Jesus maybe give her some room to breathe,” Conrad snaps. She probably doesn't want your hot breath blowing in her face.”

Aaliyah chuckles at the jibe as Jensen turns to glare Conrad down as his cheeks alight with embarrassment.

Conrad just smirks at him smugly and shrugs casually. “Just teasing Jen Jen,” he says in a tone that is definitely not teasing.

Jensen just throws him the finger and turns back to Aaliyah.

“Ignore him, he tends to like being rude to his friends.”

Aaliyah just nods and opens her mouth to say something but Jensen cuts her off quickly as he now reaches out to brush her hair.

“Is this real?” he says as he holds one of her braids in between his fingers, bringing it close up to his face as if he’s inspecting it for something.

Laughing nervously she pushes his hand away lightly and scoots out of Jensen’s reach.

“Some of it is fake with strands of my natural woven into it. My mom does it for me.”

“Mhm, I just thought all black people wore weaves. That’s why you don’t like to swim right?” he laughs like he’s trying to be funny. No one laughs with him.

“Oh, come on! I was just joking,” he says as he still continues to snicker.

“Well, typically when someone makes a joke it's actually funny, Conrad snaps. “You're just being a racist.”

“Not with this again,” Jensen groans as he rolls his shoulders to sit up. “You know, I really don’t understand your obsession with calling me a racist but I’m so sick of it, like get over your ego, Conrad!”

Conrad lets out a bitter laugh as he stands to his feet and begins to walk down the porch away from us. “See this is why I didn’t want to come, I didn’t want to put up with your crap!”

Jensen manages to scramble to his feet and follow hot on Conrad’s trail. Me, James, and Aaliayh get up quickly after him.

“Don’t walk away from me! Face me like a real man!”

Conrad whips around and gets right in Jensen’s face as they now stand toe to toe.

 “Don’t you dare talk to me about being a man when you literally come running anytime your boy Enzo snaps his fat fingers. You're nothing more than a dog on a leash!”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see that a bunch of people have come out of my house and hover on the porch.

Across the way, I see Mrs. Smith, the neighbor has peeked her head out of her own front door. 

Watching and listening. We are loud and it’s late. We need to be quieter. 

Moving forward, I wedge myself between the two hoping I can settle things before they get out of hand.

“Why don’t we just all chill out and go back in,” I say calmly. “We can all figure this out”

“No,” Conrad snaps, “I have nothing left to say to him. He can run off with Enzo!”

To make matters worse, this is the exact moment that Enzo decides to come outside. I hear his voice before I see him.

“What is going on out here?”

I watch him saunter his way down the front steps and stop to look over us. His eyes are hazy and his body seems a bit wobbly but he’s managing to stay upright.

“What’s happening Jen?,” he says as he turns to acknowledge Jensen, ignoring both me and Conrad.

“Oh nothing, just having a friendly little conversation with my pal Con here,” his voice betrays his true feelings. 

Enzo throws a disinterested look towards Conrad and turns back to Jensen. “I was just coming to find you because I wanna bounce. I’m bored.”

Conrad scoffs loudly as he crosses his arms.

“Sounds good to me, let’s get outta here.” Jensen turns to me and says, “Thanks again Ant, I appreciate it.”

I open my mouth to respond but am interrupted by a loud whistle from Enzo. I turn and see that his gaze is now on Aaliyah, eyeing her up and down in a way that makes my skin crawl with disgust.

“So, is this the girl you were telling me all about?  Jen, your description doesn't do her justice.”

Aaliayah just shifts uncomfortably and pulls her leather jacket tightly around her upper body.

Enzo motions her over but she just shakes her head no quickly. She doesn't even make eye contact with him, staring hard into the ground.

“Oh don’t be shy, he croons. I just want a closer look at you beautiful. Snaking his hand out he wraps it around her wrist and tries to tug her in.

Squirming, Aaliayah attempts to break free from his hold. “Let go please,” she says as Enzo keeps trying to reel her in. “Let go!”

“Hey, don’t touch her!” Conrad yells at Enzo as he reaches forward to push him away from Aaliyah. “She said let go.”

“Chill out dude,” Enzo says as he continues to pull. “I just want her to come here.”

Conrad surges forward to intervene but before he can there’s a loud crack as Aaliyah’s fist makes contact with Enzo’s face and he stumbles back hissing in pain.

We all stare in shocked silence as we watch blood trickle slowly from Enzo’s now busted lip. 

He looks up at Aaliyah with a face of disbelief before it morphs into one of rage. “You're going to regret that,” he snarls as lunges forward at her.

All hell seems to break loose as Conrad tackles Enzo before he can grab Aaliyah, pinning him to the ground face down on the concrete. 

Some of his buddies come running off the porch to jump in, attempting to rip Conrad off of him. Their fists pummeling in a flurry as they try to grab at him. This has MJ and Matt hurtling down the steps to defend him as they all try to encircle Conrad.

I try to grab Jensen as he rushes forward because I don’t want him to join in on the hitting but I stop when I realize he’s running to Enzo’s side. Of course he is. He always is.

Punches are being thrown, phone lights flash as people record and loudly whoop to encourage the fighting. 

I feel someone grab my arm and I freeze as I turn, expecting to start having my butt get kicked but I see it's just James with Aaliyah behind him. 

Her face is fraught with anguish as she trembles slightly. She opens her mouth to say something but is interrupted by the blaring of sirens.

I freeze as red and blue lights wash over me, forcing me to shut my eyes from their aggressive brightness.

Someone yells, “Police, split!” and I feel people begin to rush past me as I squint to see some of them jumping into cars, or booking it down the street far away from the lights and noise.

The only ones still here are a few of Enzo’s friends, Enzo himself, Jensen, MJ, Matt, James, Aaliyah, and me.

I watch as a stocky officer gets out of the car after turning the lights off and slowly approaches where we are. Assessing Enzo’s bloody lip and Conrad who is now propped up against MJ clutching his side in pain.

He roves his eyes over the group  but his piercing gaze lingers on Aaliyah. I see she has two fists balled at her sides and she’s looking everywhere but at him.

“Hey, y'all, I came out to see what the ruckus is. I got a noise complaint from a neighbor at the house across,” he says, looking between us all.

Damn that Mrs. Smith.

I open my mouth to begin explaining but Enzo interrupts me before I can. Thrusting his finger out in an accusatory manner at Aaliyah he says, “She attacked me! And for no reason, she’s crazy.”

“Not true, Conrad snaps from where he’s standing. You harassed her so she defended herself.”

“Look at what she did to his lip!” Jensen cries as he emphasizes the cut. I cannot believe him right now. He’s defending this.

Enzo just smirks up at us all and now I want to be the one to punch his face in.

“So she did hit him though?” The officer inquires as he looks Aaliyah up and down.

“Yes bu-”

“That can count as aggravated assault, " he says gravely.

“It wasn't even her fault though!”

He holds his hand up to silence Conrad. Turning to Aaliyah he simply says, “Hands behind your back.”

What?

Aaliyah is frozen to her spot. She doesn't move. None of us do.

“Did you not hear me?” the officer snaps. “Hands behind your back now!”

She still doesn't move and the officer loses patience. He lunges forward and grabs Aaliyah harshly by the arms, spinning her around and slamming her face down into the concrete.

Yelping, Aaliyah tries to flail her arms and legs but the motion falls flat as the officer's knee comes to rest on the back of her neck.

It’s like time has stopped and we're all stuck watching this unfold in front of us. No one moves, no one says anything. We are all still and unmovable.

Except for Conrad. Out of the corner of my eye I see his arm move, slowly but surely. Grabbing into his pocket, his hand extends with his phone as I see him hold it up to capture what’s happening.

My attention is pulled back to Aaliyah as her sounds of distress reach my ears.

Gasping out for air, her brown eyes meet my blue ones and I cannot look away. No matter how much I want to.

How did we get here? What did I do wrong? What did she do wrong?

Nothing. She did nothing. 

But the worst part is I do nothing as I watch her become nothing in front of me.

                                   ***

I’ve already rang the police. They’ll be here any minute now to take care of that girl. That girl who I just watched hit one of the boys outside at this party.

A boy who was friendly to her. But she practically spat in the face of his manners. Instead deciding to be violent. When all he was trying to do was be welcoming.

I still can’t believe Anthony threw a party. He’s such a good boy. With good friends. And good behavior. He doesn't hang out with these aggressive types of young people, especially people like that girl.

She’s probably a broke trying to worm her way into belonging with someone like Anthony. With people like Anthony.

But she doesn't belong here. She never will.

So I wait until I see the comforting sight of the red and blue lights flash in front of the house, letting me be able to close my door. 

Peacefully assured that all will be well now I head carefully up my stairs to my bedroom knowing I can sleep without worry of that girl.

It’s my job to make sure that this neighborhood's perfection is protected. For as long as I live here.

                                 ***

In one hand I hold my thermos as the other takes my ID card to place atop the small scanner in front of the ICU area .

 The scanner beeps and turns green and I watch as the wide doors swing open. As I walk in, the sharp smell of sanitizer and cleaner hits my nose making me cringe slightly. They tell you that you become immune to the smell once you’ve spent enough time in a hospital but I don’t think it's true. I’m not used to the smell. At all.

Heading over to the front desk, I greet Ms. Merriweather who sits in her usual spot with her typical early morning smile. 

I chat with her as I go over some papers that I didn't get to last night and make sure everything is aligned with the people that I see during my rounds on this shift.

 I get ready to head to see my first patient when I hear “Nurse Jones!” echo through the air. I turn to see Doctor Decki striding towards me with his long legs and curly brown hair. 

Putting on a smile, I wave and wait for him to approach me at the desk.

“Nurse Jones, good morning”, he says as he flashes his pearly whites at me.

“Good morning, Doctor Decki, how are you?” I ask as he continues to stare down at me just smiling his perfect smile. Even after a long ICU shift.  Weird.

“I’m well,thanks for asking. I was about to head out when I spotted you and thought to get your help for something”.

“Oh,” I say curiously. “Of course, Doctor, what can I do for you?”.

“Well,” he starts, “a new patient was admitted around eleven last night after sustaining some pretty big injuries. She’s currently in room eight, finally asleep after a night of going in and out of consciousness. I want to hand her care over to you”.

“Really?” I question in slight confusion. “Is there a reason you're requesting me specifically?”

For a second, I see him hesitate but then he says, “I just believe you would be the best fit for… a patient like her.” He’s still smiling that flawless smile. It’s a bit unnerving now. Fake almost.

“Okay, can I have her file then?”

“Oh, no need for all that,” Doctor Decki says with a quick shake of his head. “I’ll drop you at her room to run some quick vital checks and make sure you're all set to go since it’s on my way out.”

“Thank you,” I say politely as I nod at him to lead the way. Beaming, he waves bye to Ms. Merriweather as do I and he heads off to the patient's room. 

I do my best to follow his quick footsteps, but he has to wait a few seconds at her door before I catch up. 

Peeking in, I stiffen. Now I know the real reason Doctor Decki wanted me to handle this particular patient.

She’s Black.The realization rips through me as Doctor Decki walks in ahead of me, coming to a stop close to where she rests. 

I can’t make out her features much because of the severe swelling that encompasses her face, making her skin look bloated out.

A dark older woman is slumped over in a chair next to the bed, gripping the girl's hand tightly. She must be her mom.

Doctor Decki clears his throat loudly and the woman begins to stir. He turns to find me still standing at the entrance of the room and he beckons for me to come in.

For a second I consider denying him as his words flash through my head,“I just believe you would be the best fit for… a patient like her.” There is absolutely no way he didn’t pair me with her for any other reason than our similar race, especially since I’m the only Black nurse on the ICU floor.

But, as he gives me that stupidly perfect smile again, I feel my legs begin to move me into the room against my will.  

I bite my tongue and force a grin as I calmly accept my fate. I’m stuck and there’s nothing I can do about it.

                                   ***

The author's comments:

Transition

The recent arrest of a 17 year old black female minor has caused her to be hospitalized for life-threatening injuries she sustained during the arrest which raises questions about why it was so violent. Many are calling the situation a racial hate crime as the Minneapolis Police Department has quite a history of racially motivated arrests. Officer Smith, the officer who made the arrest in particular, has a past riddled with arrests made of people of color that were often unfounded and based on nothing more than their race. Officer Smith has not spoken out against any of these claims and the police department has yet to issue a statement.

                                ***

I sense something is wrong as soon as I wake up. I don’t know if it’s because of the sharp pain that used to be in my back has now spread down to my legs or if it’s the dark, angry clouds that glare down at me from above. It will storm soon.

I feel it. Today is the day. My last day. My body is giving out.  The day I’ve prayed for.

I gingerly sit up, having to go slower than I usually do which is not a good sign. I look up and down the sidewalk from the bench where I am but see no sign of the girl.

Laying back down softly, I close my eyes to wait. My mind thinks of all the delicious things she’s brought me.

My favorite were the brownies. I hope she brings more today, but she doesn't. She never comes.

I was hoping I would get to eat them again one last time. I was hoping to thank her. But I won’t. 

I never see the brown eyed girl again.


                         ***

I startle awake at the sound of my blaring alarm. I flip my phone over to silence the noise and see some missed calls and texts.

Their all from Jensen. I ignore it. Turning back over I stare at my ceiling with the events of last night running through my mind. How did it go downhill so fast? I remember the party, going out to the deck with Jensen, James and Aaliyah, Conrad showing up, Jensen and him fighting because of his advances towards Aaliyah… Aaliyah.

 When I think of her I feel like hurling. It wasn’t even her fault.

After she stopped breathing and only when she stopped breathing then did the cop remove his knee.

I remember fumbling for my phone and calling 911. The ambulance had come and swept her away, still in handcuffs.

Even as she lay on the stretcher, the officer refused to uncuff her. He practically had to be ordered back into his car so they could load her up.

Only after the chaos had died down and the street was empty did we shuffle back inside. Enzo and Jensen had left as soon as the police officer did. They both couldn’t look at us.

The boys had come in with me to sit. All of us in silence.

Until I mumbled I was heading to bed. I needed to lie down and forget. None of them had moved and I left them there to figure out if they were heading home or crashing here. I didn’t care.

I’m going to be sick I realize as my stomach bubbles. 

 I scramble out of my bed to my bathroom as I feel all the contents of last night's drinks forcing their way out of my body. I  manage to make it to the toilet and I retch absolutely everything in my stomach down into the bowl. 

Once I’m sure nothing else is going to come up, I wobble slightly to the sink to rinse my mouth out.  Looking at myself in the mirror after I rinse the taste of bile from my tongue, I stare hard at my reflection.

Glaring back at me is a tall, pale boy with watery blue eyes. My hair is sticking up every which way which adds to the ridiculousness of it all.

I remember Jensen’s words from the other day. “He’s only half black, so he wouldn’t know.”

But I do, really do. I’m tired of being dismissed for looking more one way than the other. I’m tired of people telling me I wouldn’t know what it’s like to be black because I live in too nice of a house.

 I’m tired of people acting surprised when I say that I’m mixed.Because it shouldn’t matter as much as it does. Because I’m a person. Just like Aaliyah is though her treatment last night shows different.

I  have to find out where she is now. I have to help fight for her now because I didn't then. I will make this right. I swear.

                                   ***

The author's comments:

Last transition

 The city of Minneapolis has been the face of racial division this past week as videos of the arrest of 17 year old Aaliyah Jackson has been circulating the internet. The video shows in graphic detail the brutal force used by Minneapolis star police Officer Humpheries as he attempts to arrest her for what he claims was aggravated assault on another minor who was at the scene. But the attention has been called to the fact that Aaliyah has been hospitalized with what could be life-threatening injuries sustained from detainment. Many local activist organizations such as “Hands Up, Don’t Shoot” and “When They See Us” have called members of the community to protest these unjust actions and demand that the Minneapolis Police Department fire and charge Officer Humphries with first degree manslaughter. Others blame Aaliyah quoting that she was “looking for trouble” and that Officier Humphries was simply doing his job. Currently, Officer Humphries has remained on active duty and the police station has still refused to issue a statement regarding the situation. So for now we hold our breath as we wait to see how our city will handle the mounting tensions of this crisis.



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