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"you listen to me your black is beautiful, you're a sun child the sun blesses your skin in its light never forget that okay? my young king i love you" nehemiah's mother masani told him he was a young petite eleven year old who wanted to be like michael jordan or kobe bryant. he loved basketball and wanted to be one of the greats. his mother always told him he had a gift he was smart and kind a selfless young man who loved to help his neighbor.
"ma come on" he sighed
"tamir i am only trying to prepare you for what you'll have to face in the outside im not going to be here physically forever" she rubbed her hands through his course curls
"i know" he mumbled grabbing his orange jacket and basketball
"you ready?" masani asked him grabbing her phone
"yes" we walked out their apartment running downs the steps
"ay don't you bounce that ball na" his mother's projectile voice boomed in his ear
"yes ma'am" he held the ball walking on her side
the courts were across the street from the apartment complex they lived in. predominantly made up of black and other minorities everyone stayed in their own lanes. they all knew the struggle some mother's could barely afford to out food on their table. nehemiah was one of the few luckier ones his mom was a history teacher at the local highschool he had an older brother marco who was in the navy overseas.
"nehemiah over here" his friend jermaine waved him over
masani watched him from the bleachers grading some papers
once the sun started setting she made sure all the boys made it back to their parents
"bye miah bye ms.masani" raheem and jermaine said union
"alright boys" she waved
"you did your homework miah?"
"yes ma" he picked out his outfit for school
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"jermaine that you?" his father asked
"yeah pops" he walked into the living room dapping him up
"you go to the courts?"
"yeah i did" his father omar knew jermaine loved to play basketball so everyday after school he would let him go down to the courts to practice
"i gotta coworker coming over for dinner is that okay with you?"
"yeah i'll probably just eat in the dine" he shrugged
omar nodded walking off towards the kitchen
jermaine had lost his mother to cancer four years ago it pained him because he was young and barely got to spend time with her. his father never really seemed to recover from the lost of his highschool sweetheart or the mother of his children. jermaine never understood why he didn't remarry or date someone after she passed it had been almost five years and he still wore his wedding band.
it in a way comforted jermaine and omar that he still was madly in love his mother. he laid down on his bed tossing a bouncy ball up and down staring at the ceiling. every time he thought about his mother it was like he had to force tears he didn't cry his body wouldn't let him but he mourned the loss of his mother.
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"heem is that you?" mrs.marley his grandmother janet asked
"yes!" he walked through the house towards the kitchen where his grandmother seemed to always be in
he kissed her cheek washing his hands
raheem lost his mother to incarceration and his father to gun violence, out of the three boys he was the strongest mentally at a young age he was pushed beyond his limits. raheem was raised in his grandmother's southern home going to church every sunday and wednesday if it was one thing he was grateful for it was his grandmother. without her he would've been in a foster home being treated god knows how.
"what did you do?" his grandma asked washing some greens
"went to the courts to play basketball" he told her
"you wasn't round them thugs was you?"
"nah granny i was just with miah and maine" he told her
"you know i don't want you to end up like them lil boys" she told him
he knew what she meant recently there had been a lot of young boys shot and killed from gang related stuff
raheem wasn't in the streets but he knew certain things because of older cousins and his mother. his mother was arrested and charged with aggravated assault, breaking and entering. losing both of his parents was hard he had lost his father and mother to unfortunate events and was emotionally scarred.
mary j blige's not gon' cry played on television as his grandmother moved around the kitchen
"granny why you playing this sad stuff, you sad?" raheem chuckles
"boy hush" she laughed waving him off
his grandparents had their days were janet kicked xavier out or they argued and she played her music. raheem was used to it, it was funny to him they were almost sixty but acted younger than their age.
the three boys nehemiah, jermaine, and raheem. three friends from the same community, same struggle, with different dreams in life. if only the three young boys were more prepared mentally for what the real world had planned for them. and to think it all started with white shoes.
MY BLACKNESS IS NOT A THREAT
——————————— all rights reserved -MODADON
y'all know don't steal my characters layout or plot allat fun stuff. excuse mistakes
vote comment allat
keep delete or you'on care
this book is based off a few things mainly off my older sisters old poem called white shoes.
