roaring 20s | h.s

the ring

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Olivia POV

I walked out of the church that my family and I were just in, and saw the familiar cloud of smoke that usually surronds public areas.

I quickly walked past the group of men, flattening out my yellow sundress so it didn't look wrinkled.

"Hey, baby," one man said drunkingly on a bench.

I usually walked home from church alone since my dad had to stay until everyone left. My mom stayed with him, so I would walk the short distance by myself to my house.

I ignored the man, walking faster to get home. I would normally be confident enough to stay or defend myself from him, but I did not get a good feelign around this guy.

"Hey, I'm talking to you!" The man yelled to me, and started to run towards me.

I ran away from the man, faster since I was ober and had control of myself. I was close to my house, and I turned around to see the guy long gone.

I stopped running, and took deep breathes to control my breathing again.

"Sweetheart, why are you in a hurry?" My African-American neighbor, Mrs. Margaret, said from her porch.

"Oh, it is nothing to worry about," I said. "Have a good day, Mrs. Margaret!"

"And to you as well, my dear."

In Philadelphia, we were very accepting of blacks. My father says that they are human, just like us. They should not be treated differently, so we should give them the same respect we give everyone else.

Once, I asked my father why blacks weren't allowed in the same school as me, and he didn't even have an answer, but he said, "The world is a cruel place."

I walked inside, and decided to make myself some fresh lemonade. Once I did that, I made myself something to eat for lunch. Soon, my parents walked through the front door.

My mother said, "Hello, Olivia. May I speak to you, alone?"

I got up from the dining table, and followed my mother into my bedroom.

"So, Mrs. Margaret has informed me that you practically ran home. Why on Earth were you running?" My mother asked.

"Um... Just felt like going for a run?" I said, the statement coming out as a question. I was a decent liar, but there wasn't a good reason for me running.

"That is non-sense. Be honest with me Olivia, or you will be grounded from seeing Bethany," my mother threatened.

"Ok," I started. "I was walking home, and this man started chasing me, and started to talk to me. He sounded like a drunk, too."

My mother did something that I did not expect. She slapped me, hard across the face.

"That is not the way to handle that situation!" My mother exclaimed. "You are to act like a lady, and how dare you conclude that man to be a drunk! You are to respect a man's decisions and requests when given!"

"I'm sorry," I muttered, not giving in to the tears building up in my eyes. "I was just scared that he would try to do something to me-"

"Well if you wouldn't wear a dress that a whore would, then maybe you wouldn't be in that situation!" My mother yelled, and with that, she left my room.

The dress I wore reached my knees, and covered most of my arms. None of my chest was showing, but since half of my legs were showing, I was going against God himself.

I wanted to break down, but I knew it wouldn't do any good. I could never win with that woman. She expects me to be exactly like her, when in fact I am not her. I believe that I should have some say in my life, and that I am my own individual person.