Token Black girl

two

As I immerse myself into the chlorine, I can feel my body sinking to the pools floor, my heart beat decreasing as I become one with the water.

I then emerge from the water, and direct my eyes to Jeremiah and Nadia.

"What do you think he did to deserve that?" Nadia asks, referring to Ahmaud Arbery as she continues indecently smacking her gum.

"Who knows?." Jeremiah shrugs.

It's unbelievable him and I are even blood related.

"He didn't do anything Nadia." I state, rolling my eyes as I approach the beach chair to gather my towel and glasses.

"He was probably a thug." Nadia sneers. Jeremiah giggles at her accusation, and admires Nadia as she smirks in my direction.

I stop dead in my tracts, in absolute disbelief.

"You're just as bad as the men who murdered him. Talk about white privilege." I scoff, slamming the screen door for emphasis.

"Now Zion, what have I told you about slamming the screen door?" Kirsten recalls.

"My bad." I reply sarcastically, dragging my feet along the floor to get under her skin, and collapse dramatically.

My phones text tone then chimes, indicating I received a message. It was Isabelle.

come out, I'm outside your house.

I lock my phone, forcing my jean shorts above my bikini bottoms and slip into my white Birkenstocks.

"I'm going out!!" I shriek, sprinting to the front door. Hot girl bummer blared from Isabelle's speakers. The music volume was ear-piercing and can be heard all throughout the neighborhood.

"Hey sis!" She squeals above the roaring. As I enter the car, I adjust the volume to spare my hearing.

"You've got to stop doing that." I sigh,.

"Let's go!!" Before I could object, Isabelle put the car in drive and sped to her house on the opposite side of the neighborhood.

My neighborhood consisted of about 5,000 square footage homes isolated from River City and beach traffic. We were the only black family for miles, and to top it off, the only family with two mothers attached to the mortgage.

Isabelle's house was a spitting image of my home, and every other house on the block. "Hello Mr. and Mrs. Thompson." I greet, acknowledging her parents, as we enter the foyer.

"Oh please girl, call us Gen and Ron!" Her mother exclaims, handing us a cold beverage of some sort.

The den was silent, all except for the audio of various TikToks. We prefer doing nothing together rather than alone. "I think it's funny, Nadia will open her mouth for black dick but not black issues." Isabelle spills in between fits of laughter.

Isabelle is my only friend at Duncan U, whom I feel comfortable discussing controversial topics with. She understands her privilege, and uses it for good.

"I bet Nadia is spending the night." I state, pretending to gag.

"Good luck with that one." Isabelle giggles. Nadia was Jeremiah's downgrade following his break up with Isabelle after 3 consecutive years.

Such an iconic duo.

"Girl, spend the night please!" Isabelle begs, lifting herself onto the counter.

"Kirsten and Marley would kill me." I say, referring to my parents.

"Fine. I'll drop you off then." Isabelle sighs, snatching her keys from the hook.

As I approach the steps leading to front door, the aroma of seafood danced along my upper lip. I then wave to Isabelle, as she drives off into the distance.

The house was quiet and gloomy. Rushing up the stairs, I overhear mom and Kirsten arguing. Although I can't exactly make out the subject matter.

I'm sure the argument was in regards to being black in America and the risks officers are willing to take to return home to their families every night. Kirsten doesn't seem to get it.

After a hot shower, I sink into bed, sleep overrunning my body. I click on the television, and immediately scroll to the Netflix icon. After Netflix's loud opening, Riverdale was cast on my screen. I select the title and roll over on my side; the casts voices fading into the unknown.

A loud slamming of a door, stirs me from my sleep. I jump up from bed in a panic, wiping the sleep from my eyes. I rush to my doorway, and to my surprise I was greeted by Nathan and King. "Mommys sleeping on the couch again." Nathan yawns, referring to our mother Marley.

"Grow the hell up!" Kirsten screeches, slamming yet another door, causing the picture frames to rattle.

"What time even is it?" my eyes dart to the alarm clock at my bedside, displaying the numbers—

4:35 a.m

"Two moms, twice the arguing." King huffs, returning to his bedroom likely to get some rest.

"Go snag moms keys, I'll meet you out front." I tell Nathan, he nods and proceeds to get them from the bowl in the foyer.

In my peripheral vision, I could see Nathan. The click of the door shutting, echos as I inhale the crisp Florida air.

The tranquil town had few to no cars on the road. We sat in silence, windows down as the air eased our minds. Before I could switch the gears to park, Nathan had already lept from the passengers seat, eager to enter the convenience store.

As I force the cloth mask over my mouth, I inhale and exhale deeply from my nostrils; preparing to breathe cautiously.

The fluorescent lights holding me hostage, cause me to squint as I approach the monitor to place my order. "I nearly forgot about COVID." a voice mutters from the coffee station. With the death of Ahmaud Arbery in the headlines, it's almost as if we had turned a blind eye to the gravity of the epidemic.

"Number 152."

Nathan and I sat, legs crossed, picking at out sandwiches. "Why do I have this feeling Ahmaud Arbery is only the first..." Nathan trails off, tomato sauce oozing from his sandwich into the grass.

I ignore his comment, and continue to admire the night sky, anxious to catch the sunrise. Riverfront park was Jacksonville's greatest tourist attraction for those eager to see the sun peer above the horizon.

The promising golden disk rose, signifying the birds to chirp for its homecoming, and Nathan's face radiates with excitement.

This is nature.

As humans, we often omit nature's beauty because it is a given. Even in a recession greater than 2008's, a worldwide epidemic and the ongoing fight for equality, I still see the beauty in the struggle. The sun still rises in the east and sets in the west.

"Let's start heading home."
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