Mafioso

Niglette

I turned my head to the right where he sat. The black face for white acceptance.

Paris Wright

Paris is one of those beautiful chocolate brothers. Standing six feet and some inches from the floor, a perfect build, white teeth, and most importantly skin that could rival the smoothness, texture, and taste of a Hershey bar.

He is the epitome of a black Ken doll.

When he was born the doctor didn't slap his ass, she shoved a golden spoon in his mouth and wrapped him in a blanket made from silk.

Everything comes easy to him money,athletics, academics, girls, friends.

He never had to struggle for anything he was raised "white" and the only thing that classified him as "black" was that cocoa colored skin and the beast in between his legs.

I'm not judging him or assuming either. I've known Mr. Wright since the tender age of fourteen so let's just say we're not "strangers".

With our history in mind I gave him a head nod that only a brother would appreciate. Hoping he would show some type of mercy and preceded to search the bottom of his open textbook for a page number.

To my dismay he shut his book faster than I could say "token negro".

I couldn't believe that shit.

How dare he?

The giggles started back up until he and all his friends erupted with laughter.

I looked around the room to my right, left, forward and back, still not finding shit funny.

"Nigga fu-"

"384"

"What" I snapped with all of the attitude I could conjure up. I was upset and hell hath no fury like a women scorned.

"384 that is the page bambina " when I looked at the Mediterranean man speaking to me any anger I felt dissolved.

Something was familiar but I couldn't determine if it was his ocean blue eyes or Italian accent.

"Thank you" I muttered and turned to the page embarrassed and feeling like an ass. He was being nice and I was rude to him.

I sat quietly with my head bowed for the rest of lesson.

I was packed and walking out the door when the clock struck 10:00am.

I made it to the parking lot, and let out a deep breath I wasn't even aware I was holding

Ice Cube lied today was not a good day.

As I walked I couldn't stop thinking about my life and how every time things look up for me something knocks me flat on my ass.

I feel like Im living in a movie.

I'm starring as the main character.
Ruby Red, an abandoned ghetto youth, just trying to survive. A young black woman, a negro female attempting to establish a name for herself in a white mans world . A black girl lost...

The title would probably be something politically improper like....

" A Niglette Named Ruby"

Or something sexy like

" A Chocolate Ruby"

In the mist of my pondering I arrived to the bus stop.

I sat down on the bench and groaned, it was scorching on my exposed my legs but the ache in my feet had me to tired care.

As I sat a midnight blue sports car came speeding down the street like it was in a race.

I would never get in a car that fast with a driver that crazed.

About 3 minutes later the same car drove up, and stopped right in front of me.
The driver rolled down the sleek window and said nothing for a while.

I studied his features in a trance just like I have before . He was so damn beautiful it hurt.

Get in" he finally demanded in a tone that left no room debate.

Normally I would have turned my head the other way and pretended I was the only person around.

Yet I found myself slowly but surely gathering my bag and sliding into this boys car.

I could lie and say the heat was excruciating and that bus was disgusting.
I could even say that this beautiful man, with the pretty lips, and deep baritone voice had no influence on my decision to get in this car.

That would be a lie.

AN.....Who do you guys think the crazed driver is??
I know it's short but it's quality not quantity. I'm just getting started.