𝗨𝗻𝗮𝗽𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗴𝗲𝘁𝗶𝗰

Visible Minority

Neveah (n.) - The name Nevaeh is the word "Heaven" spelled backwards. An erroneous belief is that the name has an Irish origin, a variation of the name Niamh, which is still common in Ireland today.

Visible minority. That's the box I had to cross when signing the papers for my school transfer. Apparently, it's not enough that you had to cross the box for black but you also have to say that your skin is darker than others.

I couldn't even cross more than one because it says 'Cross the one you most identify with'. But what if I don't know which one I most identify with do I cross off no boxes?

This was all a bunch of crap the only reason why I was put into this mess was because my parents couldn't choose if they loved or hated each other. They made that abundantly clear when mom cheated and dad left when the divorce papers were printed.

It made no sense for him to stay when their silent treatment stage ended with an argument. By now I'm used to it I have been listening to them for seventeen years that I started to wonder when they would kill each other.

It's what happens when you're forced to marry the person you accidentally got pregnant with. My mom wanted to rebel and my dad saw a pretty white girl with privilege he could never have.

Trust me I've heard the story of how they first met and I'm not impressed. I heard my mother's first as she was blunt and callous while my dad romanticized something that ended with fear and regret.

There are no rights or wrongs when I was the child. I'm not supposed to pick sides but here I am forced to either identify with my dad or mom. It felt like the day when my parents asked me who I wanted to live with then they went on to force me to leave where I grew up to live with my dad and grandma in what my dad called the projects.

Was the name supposed to instill fear? Because it makes it sound like a bad rap song. That's what we have today, bad rappers with extra bad reputations where all they do is party, do drugs and make music which at this point shouldn't be called music since it sounds like gibberish.

I was supposed to be used to this since - if no one has noticed - I'm black and by this form, I am a visible minority because my skin isn't white. It's not like I'm even black either my skin barely shows brown in me. The good thing is that I'm accepted by both races due to the way my hair curls, the shape of my body, and the way my skin shines under the sun I'm basically white enough to be noticed.

As I like to think beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

It sucks to think if I was not up to the beauty standards then I would be tossed out of society quicker than my mom can say, que fella. Which she can't. Though my mom is Spanish she can't speak any of it my grandparents didn't teach her and I don't even think that they know how speak Spanish.

But if they do know how then they're good at keeping it a secret because I haven't heard a Spanish word in my life. Anything I say is from the Spanish class I chose instead of French.

Those are my roots, I have my non-Spaniard mom who can barely say hola, then my black dad who is basically a black stereotype but I think that's what mom loved. It's the fact that she knew her parents wouldn't approve and that drew her to him more.

I could say a lot about my mother, she doesn't have the best qualities but I love her and she's one of my favourite people. She promised that we'd go to the salon every Sunday so she could get all the details of my new life. I'll miss her the most even though I'm only two hours away from her.

I mean I'll also miss my little brother Angel but I barely know him all he does is cry, sleep, and beg for food. I haven't had that special connection I think it's mostly because we don't have the same dad and barely look alike.

He has blue crystal eyes, golden blonde hair, and fair skin. I barely got recognized as my mother's daughter everyone always thought we were either sisters or friends so how will it be any different with him.

He's almost a year old and people already think he's my moms. It makes sense when my mom has blonde hair - which she dyed after her light brown hair didn't seem to suit her - hazel eyes, and fair skin.

I'm pretty much an outsider with those two but mom makes it so I'm not. My grandparents grew to love me and spoil me every chance they get probably since they notice how popular mixed babies are that they do everything they can to show me off.

That's how I got into little miss pageant because my grandparents made calls and showed me off. The judges went wild over how mixed I was that in this beauty standard we live in I actually felt beautiful.

I wore everything proudly knowing it's what makes my grandparents happy and I'd do it again. That's what I'm doing now keeping my head up high and wearing my smile proudly while I pack my stuff.

Some of my stuff has been moved, most has been bought as new furniture, and now I only have a suitcase left with shoes I don't want to leave. My mom keeps saying how this will be good for me but I don't see how that's possible when I'm leaving everything I know and love.

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𝙸 𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚊 𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎, 𝚒 𝚊𝚖 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚎 - 𝙻𝚞𝚔𝚎 𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍

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Hey readers and welcome to my second book I hope you enjoyed this little short chapter like I enjoyed writing it. I acc had this stored for a while and after some inspiration from Wattpad friends I decided to publish it.

I was astonished to see a visible minority box on a form I was signing and thought I'd add that. It brought up a lot of internal questions that made me hate the whole word.

Anyways I hope I brought up a discussion also please vote and comment if you enjoyed and I'll see you in the next one!!!💛✨