"..we were always taught to hate the dark, to be afraid of it.. but for some reason i've always found it so... comforting."
"is that why you like me?"
-
in which a black girl from detroit, struggling with accepting her dark skin moves across the wor...
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So, there I stood. After about an hour long drive, I arrived at this house with nothing but a rental truck full of paint rollers, tarps, and blue paint. Plus, a super cute Harry in a little red flannel.
I placed my hands on my hips looking over the house. It was a small little blue house right by the lake, that was atleast half frozen by now. Holy fuck it was cold.
"Who's house was this?" I asked Harry. "It was the first house my grandparents bought." He told me and I smiled. "Yeah.. my grandpa was a dick- he was selfish, abusive, an alcoholic and he created the throbbing parasite that is my father..." he said, I bit my lip back feeling incredibly uncomfortable. What was I supposed to say to that?
"I'll bring the paint in, baby." He said, kissing my cheek and slapping my ass when i began to walk away. I laughed a little to myself before entering the house.
It was obvious they'd been prepping it for a while, there was tarps all over the wooden floor and it was pretty much empty. I couldn't help but notice a box sitting on the kitchen counter.
'FAMILY SHIT'
It was labeled.
I smiled to myself, standing on my tip toes and fishing out a dusty photo album.
'HARRY N' GEMMA'
It read.
Harry had a sister? How come we'd never talked about this? My curious George looking ass decided to take a look.
I slowly opened the book, only to see a bunch of polaroids. Some of them seemed recent, no less than 2 years old. Some of them were baby pictures. I had a feeling that Harry's grandfather hadn't died as long ago as Harry said.
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