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The Start Of A Story For My Friend MikeThat Off My Mom's Computer And The First Chapter Is At Home On My Other Computer

The air was damp and soggy as I sat in my room. A dim light shown from window, blocked by the various branches of the Fall’s trees that helped create a pattern against my wall. I stared at the various shapes trying to figure it out. The wall was a dark navy blue to match my bed and my mood. I let my eyes wonder to the table next to me. And by table, I mean an old milk carton turned over. I stole it form the junk yard after an argument with my father about how much I wanted a normal side table to put my clock on. But as soon as I had gotten home with it, I found my father had broken the clock in the end thinking he had cleverly shut me up. (No clock = No yelling from son) Sure as hell didn’t though. I groaned as a sweat drop the size of Texas slipped down my cheek. I stood up out of bed and ripped off my T-shirt and steamy jeans. The broken mirror showed my body which I found myself staring at. Talk about tough lookin. I beamed at the scars I had up and down my arms from fights with my father. My black hair was curled but not in a idiot way, in a nice combed way. My blue eyes shown under my curled bangs and a chessy-the-cat smile spread wide under a narrow smooth nose. My jaw line tightened with the smile, yet as I let it fade to study my expressions, it softened in an almost concerned way. My broad shoulders held my head high and came into nicely muscled yet skinny arms. My chest wasn’t covered in sickening hair (Praise the lord) and the built down was decent through my eyes. Like the size of my man-hood, wasn’t all bad. My over all skin tone was kind of tan, still pale though I would think. The carpet beneath my feet felt soft but old as I made my way into the living room. The TV was on some trashy movie and the curtains were closed, making it feel lonely. I turned on a light with hopes of bringing less loneliness. It flew across the room creating a old green sofa with a light brown table holding a green lamp to match the coach and at the very end was an old beat up table holding a laptop. Next to the desk was the door that led out to the ghetto of my hometown. I ripped open the door and felt hot air blow my hair back as I stepped out on the steps. Kids ran up and down the street, all half bloods. No pure Whites, Blacks, Mexicans, you name it. All of us were mixed. I was half Mexican, half White. A old beat up car drove up the ally and my father drove with one hand on the steering wheel, the other holding a smoke out the window. I bit my lip as I thought about the sensation of smoking, wonderful. I stood up and slammed the door shut. I have other problems to deal with then my addiction to smoking, my father’s home. I ran back into my room and grabbed my clothes with a nice Fox hat, opened the window and jumped. Suicide!I wish, I landed with a loud thud on top of the trash can and jumped onto the hot pavement of the alley. I slipped on my pants, shirt, and hat then walked into the bustling town. People of all colors walked up and down the streets, a lot of them just looking for a bite to eat. I kept my head down from them, not daring to look twice or else they’d stop you and beg…or worse. I passed an opening with rusty letters that said “*Go downtown and look at the sign starting with a K 5 blocks from Fathers store north with the school*” I tipped my brim down and walked past it. It was a simple street, but I’m white and mexi. I cant even look at it. Its not legally marked by government “Only Black people here.”. Its just if your not black, you don’t go in there. When the kids get out from high school, they have police cars around the damned school. And the policemen are armed and alert. My heart beat was unsteady until I made it to the old Dunkin Doughnuts and safely retreated inside. I tipped the brim up and scanned the place. A middle schooler Mexican was in the corner with a Black friend. They talked in low voices saying “Man, Yo dude, Hell no!” and enough swears to break Good Lord’s ears. I sat down in the middle section of the restaurant and looked out the window. A long black limo pulled through the street, must be passing by to the old church the next town over. Many cars followed and I took off my hat in respect watching it pass. Once it was gone I threw on the hat and glanced at the children. The Black kid tipped his chin up at me in respect and I did a quick raise with my eye brows in surprise that he noticed I took off my hat and why… I continued to stare out the window for a good hour or so.Finally I stood up and walked out taking a different route home so I wouldn’t have to pass the gate that lead to “*insert K name here*”. I walked in and took long strides past my father, who was watching TV drinking beer and I closed the door lightly. I took off my clothes again and turned on the fan full blast while I landed on my bed. I crossed my arms behind my head and closed my eyes. I rolled on my side and opened my eyes slowly staring at the open window. A tan color bled against the dark blue of night…wait what the hell? I blinked and realized it was a freaking hand! I jumped out of bed and looked out the window …nothing. I felt a presence though. That feeling, someone’s here, someone’s watching. It felt like the air was pressing down on me in all directions and I blinked sticking my head out the window and glanced around. There was a hand, right there! I looked down where the hand had been where mine rested now. I closed my own into a fist thinking for a long moment and I felt a quiver rip through my hand and opened it quickly….a crumpled 5 dollar bill perched in it. “The hell…” I breathed and studied it. I held it in the light reading everything. Legal tender… I really should be worried…but hey man. I got 5 dollars! Whatever chick left it here can be my new stalker cause man, if this babe is leavin’ cash for me, I am going to play hard to get and rank in as much as old Dan can get. I hid the money under my milk carton and crawled into bed and fell into a fast and gentle sleep.I had the strangest dream that night though…I was in a room, one wall was painted black, the other white. There was a white snake in the middle of the room and I leaned against the white wall. I knew the feelings I had when I was against the wall, but I could also see it from a view of it up above. I noticed on the other side a muscled man stood, his fists clenched, and dark eyes glaring. He wore ragged clothes and a harsh looking attitude…he reminded me of a hobo… On the other side was a woman that looked pale and almost white. From her long legs to her face, everything was perfection. Blue mist eyes edged with greases of many laughs and long eye lashes that moved almost graciously when she blinked. Her lips were the faintest of pink and a small smile was presented with her full and perfect lips. Her jaw line was smooth and easily fell into a slender neck that gave birth to long arms under the white mist of her dress. The cut of the dress was slightly low revealing her breasts that were full and had no marks of abuse. The dress then gathered tight around her showing her astonishing small waist and perfect sized hips that gave away into her long legs. The dress had stopped but only inches below her thighs. This woman had more wonders then I could take in, I stared down at her bare feet that were smooth and looked soft to the touch. She glowed, every speck of her shined and I wanted to reach out and hold her. Nothing more, my need for sexual interaction with her never serviced. I felt as though I had too much respect to even talk to her in any sexual way, to dare talk of such things around her, to dare think of such cruelty to her perfect body…But as I saw all this in my mind, me standing and smashing her close against me and holding her face in my hands lost in the pools of ice artic waters, I had sat dumb folded on the ground. My lips parted and eyes wide. I had forgotten the hobo, forgotten this was just a dream, I had forgotten to breath. I took in one last breath and held it as she moved closer. The way she barley drew up her foot off the white floor and set it down made it look like she was dancing across white clouds closer to me. Her eyes burned into mine as she tangoed closer to me. “It takes two to tango dearest…” She whispered. Her voice rang out like wind chimes in the wind, gentle, sweet, yet surprisingly high pitched and thoughtful. Had she picked through my mind and heard me? More importantly did it matter? Her hand fell gracefully into mine as she lured me from the wall and we melted together into the usual tango position. I spun her and watched her shake her hips to a beat that I hadn’t even noticed was there before. It was fast and up-beat. Her chest heaved up and down as we sped faster and faster to the never ending beat that flew around us. Like mist, it intertwined us together in a dream of romantic music. After she looked like she could take no more of this intense dance of romance, beauty and confusion, she leaned close to me and her hand drew up resting against my face. It was a nippy cold ice touch that was some how satisfying. Her eyes were filled with love and yet I promised myself I wouldn’t let this go any further then a kiss. Sure enough, she kissed me, her tongue slipped deep into my own mouth and I quickly reacted and we fell into the beat of the song holding each other. I had the strangest feeling though…I felt as though hot water was being poor down all over me. It made me drowsy and tired, yet at the tip of where it was dripping down it felt like ice as cold as this woman. And that is what kept me conscious. I felt a presser fall over me and I turned quickly from her seeing the hobo. He looked angry, almost insane as he pushed her away from me.“Dan move quick!” He yelled. I stared at him, how could he do that? She fell on the ground like a feather. Quick and limp yet she settled easy on the ground like she was supposed to be there. Then something caught my eye. The hobo was wearing a rosary made of emerald…Something in my mind flashed.“Emerald means eternal life.” But why does this hobo have this? Why does he wear it? He probably stole it…that foul person. And now he was trying to hurt-“Jezebel” Isn’t she from the bible? I tried hard to recall her name and what part of the bible it had been…she was Queen of Israel with her husband King Ahab where she had then convinced her husband and many other people to believe in the Canaanite god. She used her confidence and leadership to lead other people into basically, trouble. When she had died, she was thrown out a window, trampled by horses and eaten by dogs. But even as she lay on her death bed, or dirt…she had applied make up for King Jehu who was coming to finish her off. But wasn’t her hair black and her skin tanner from being born in Israel?It had hit down on me, this was an allusion, nothing more…her wonderful body I had stared at for most likely hours, had been an allusion… The man had picked her up by her shoulders and swung her against the black wall. I couldn’t watch, I turned my head to the side but the view from up above didn’t fade. The man was pulling his fist back ready to let it fall forward against her doll like face when he turned to my scrunched body that sat against the white wall in a fiddle position. “Go to the ally tomorrow!” And the last thing I recall seeing was the white snake edging closer and closer to me.[/font]
Written by 0HisBlackDahlia0 (Dahlia)
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