Imagines of your fav domestic terrorist and cornrowed gangsta.
All of the imagines are when the Freeman's are older (teens-adults)
Request on hold?
{I don't own the boondocks }
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☾
this place makes me the kind of exhausted that has nothing to do with sleep and everything to do with the people around me
-the introvert
i released the wooden utensil from my hand, letting my (now free) hand hold my chin.
my eyes wandered from my sheet and began looking out the glass window. which was the only reminder of freedom from this institution called "school".
i see butterflies with wings so beautiful, they blind you at first glance. trees recovering from the loss of leaves from this past winter.
bees, rich with yellow, flying from flower to flower. as my mind begins to take me to a whole new horizon.
i now see myself curled up within the branches of those trees, eating strawberries and reading (your favorite book)
and then, with a single voice, i'm brought back to reality. i bring my attention to the front of the class, only to see our teacher, ms.k, giving direction.
"alright class, would anyone like to share what they've written for today's poetry workshop?" she spoke with a soft, barely audible tone.
the entire class raises their hands, well, except for me and another kid. Huey Freeman, my crush since the 6th grade.
just thinking of him sent a unfamiliar feeling of warmth and uncertainty down my spine. now, i have spoken to him on a couple of occasions.
since we were the ms.k's most prestigious writers, we'd been partnered up multiple times and run into each other at many workshops that she sent us to for the purpose of "expanding our goods".
however, my soft spoken ways, prohibit any movement in "our relationship". sadly, but it's something i'll always be used to. sadly.
ms.k looked around and choose a student that went by the name of "luke". just your stereotypical jock, nothing too special, however.
" i call this one, redemption...... while i sit on the bench, like a rench, i ponder on when i'll reach the stars with my nfl brothas....."
ms.k awkwardly smiled and encouraged us to clap for him. his dumb jock friends roared and hyped his giant ego wag too loudly.
she then called on jasmine. jasmine dubois has been my arch nemesis since the 7th grade. i, being clumsy, accidentally spilled my lemonade on her white luis vitton bag.
