Fiona Jackson
When most people look at me all they see are my nice clothes and my afro, my smile and infectious laugh. So they automatically assume that I got it easy. Well that’s where you’re wrong I have two kids, and an abusive father who beats my mother constantly. When my mom’s found about my two twins she kicked me out. I went to my baby daddy house and he told me he wanted nothing to do with me and tried to accuse me of cheating on him with a Crip. I went to live with a friend for a few months while I tried to get on my feet, about a year later I found out my mother died of a drug overdose. After I left she started taking anti-depressant pills and got tired of living, so she took it into her own hands and killed herself. I moved into the house with my father and found out that he had started drinking after mom died.
Today in school I was transferred into Mr. Wards English class, we talked about our future and what we want to do when we grew up. Which got me to thinking “what am i going to do after high school?” most kids my age would say college but is that really an option for me anymore? “Do I even want to go to college?” even if I do who’ll take care of my baby’s? My dad is just completely out of the question with all his drinking. All these things I done been through, I already feel grown.
Maybe I can call – (a voice comes over the intercom system and says) “Fiona Jackson to Mr. Marshall’s room, please.” I left the classroom heading for the basement. On the way I see my friends Janelle, Sheila, and Leslie. When I get to his class I see him talking to some white man with a fancy suit and watch on that he probably gone get jacked for. I walk up to Mr. Marshall and ask why he called me. He says, in his deep bass voice that reminds me of berry white, that he needs me to show the older kids how to sing in harmony to Whitney Houston’s “I look to you” for our gospel/pop song we are singing for our entry song. I start to set the key for the sopranos, altos, and tenors. When my solo comes up everyone is instantly quiet. Even though people tell me that I sing like an angel, but to me my singing is just like how my mother used to sing to me. After I finish they clap for me and some of my older friends have tears and their eyes and are complimenting me on my solo. Mr. Marshall waves for me to talk to him and the white man. I walk to him and he introduces me to a Mr. Garrett a scout for Julliard. He asks me if I would like an all-expenses paid ride through college, I look at him and start laughing. I look at the confused expression of the man and then look at Mr. Marshall and stop immediately at the glare he’s giving me. “Oh! You were serious?” “Yes, I am Miss Jackson” he says as if I’m stupid or something. Mr. Marshall interrupts me before I can say anything else and asks the man if he liked my singing. The man smiles rather creepily and says that my voice is very mature for my age. I ignore him and ask Mr. Marshall if I can stay in here till school is out. He says yes and I go over to my friends and we start singing again. When the bell rings I turn around to see the white man turn off his camera. I ask him if he just recorded me, the man says yes and asks me if I’m ok with that. “Actually, I’m not” I say getting my bag and dashing toward the door. I pass by the door and inconspicuously steal his camera, watch, and his wallet. I take off running down the street when I hear the man angrily yelling after me. I run to the store to pick up something to eat with the man’s money he so nicely gifted me with. I walk home and notice that a black hummer is following me. I stop and pretend to tie my shoe and pull out my thirty-eight special. The hummer pulls up beside me and I hear a window roll down I look over to see the white man from school pointing a gun at my head. He tells me to get in and I take off down the street suddenly I’m falling face first into the cement with a gun shot wound in my arm. I pass out and wake up in a strange house, i'm naked but I don’t care I’m just looking for a way out. I spot a window and jump out with nothing but a cover covering me. Suprisingly I’m only a block or two away from home and I run all the way there. (A week later) I see the man being arrested on TV for rape, and sexual assault of a minor. I go to school the next day and I am thankful that I made it out alive. At school we have to write a poem about what we experienced in our life that will change us forever and I already know that I’ve been through enough to last a lifetime.
