8. Purple

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I clear my throat and without moving my eyes from the TV screen, I ask, "Um. Mr.Grace can you turn the volume up on the TV?"

"I suppose." Mr. Grace grunts. He reaches for the remote and I feel sweat bubbles forming on my forehead.

The reporter was already mid-sentence, but luckily for me I didn't miss the important part. But, at the same time I don't feel so lucky. My heart is beating out of my chest just the way it did when Chuchee passed and just the way it does when I think about him.

"...an African American woman was shot dead by a White police officer who was defending himself. He shot Anika Jones who happens to be the wife of Officer Jones from Swatara Township. Officer Jones is standing behind me with his mother and son. His nine month old son was present during the shooting. It appears to be that Mrs. Jones is dead on scene." The reporter tugs down on her blazer jacket and looks to her left at the paramedics pulling a woman out of the vehicle.

There's a discomforting silence in this office as we all hear the heartbreaking news. Mr. Grace turns the TV off without warning and it sets me off.

In panic and pain I yell, "Wait! Wait! Was she mixed?! Did she have on a purple shirt?!"

Mr. Grace narrows his eyes at me with zero empathy. He looks like he's feeling a hint of amusement, confusion and annoyance all in one.

"Mr. Grace please turn it back on. Did she have curly hair? Did she have on a purple shirt?! Please, I just need to know." I never thought I would see the day I cry and scream in front of the man I despise the most, but here we are.

"Yo, you coo?" Gio asks me in concern. I'm definitely not cool right now and I can tell that me not being cool is worrying both Gio and Shamar. They honestly look a little scared.

"No!" I say out of breath and through the tears. I put my hand to my chest to somehow try and get better control of my breathing. I snatch the remote off of the desk. I don't even care that it feels sticky and has food stains on it. I press the power button and there the news reporter is again. But, my eyes brush past her and peer on the paramedics who unfortunately failed to revive the lady back to life. And that's when my eyes are able to truly focus. I see her brown and blonde curly mane and she's wearing a purple blouse just like the lady from the thrift store. That's because she is the lady from the thrift store and the baby is her baby that she brought to the thrift store.

I'm numb. I definitely don't have control over breathing now and the tears are flowing like a waterfall on a cloudy day. I can't move. I just stay there and Gio puts his hand on my back. Gio hesitantly places his hand on top of mine.

My ungraceful principle is fuming and I really hope that it's because of the horrible, tragic, deadly news that our town just received. Although, I wanted to see if the lady was who I was hoping it wasn't, I hope that he only turned the news off because what kind of breaking news shows all of this in depth detail before the rest of the family even finds out.

I slowly stand up and the remote is aggressively snatched from my hand. I don't even flinch.

"That'll be detention for you young lady!"

I run. And run.

I'm pretty sure my body is purple just like Anika's blouse. I don't feel alive.  Feeling empty can't be the definition of being alive.

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