Separate But Not Equal

Chapter III

"Nieve, we need to run, fast, now" I hiss, in a hushed voice.

"No, no, no," she repeats, in a state of shock.

"What do you mean no," I pant, angrily.

"No, no, no"

I sigh, my heartbeat faltering, In a failed attempt to drag Nieve's numb form off from the floor.

If I run fast enough I can get home,

And leave Nieve,

To die.

Alone...

"Nieve, stop it, we need to leave."

Her head snaps up, looking up at me from the ground, her face blotted with teardrops, giving me a far-off, lost and saddened look. Confusion evident in her eyes, as though, only just noticing my presence.

"Yeah, of course, sorry" she mumbles, stumbling on her own feet, trying to stand up.

After taking incredibly long breathes. We turn around and shoot off, being careful to make as little sound as possible. Shadowing all of our curiosity and weird feeling, hiding our worries in our footsteps and Leaving danger behind us.

We don't look back. We run until our legs ache and then we run more. We kick our legs behind Racing off as the moon glares, upturned above us, as we made our way into the endless, spiralling black hole.

*************

Clicking my tongue, and running my fingers across the dusty, ruined walls of the hallway, trudging, unwillingly towards class. My usually, long, dense hair, tied in a bun, my eyes dropping to the floor, and my arms limply hanging by my side.

Nor the bittersweet taste of dandelions and lilies, questionably floating around me or the soft, lining from the sun, seemed to lift or brighten my mood.

The Usually cramped and non-unionised, hallways are immaculate and scarcely filled, everyone either being in class; or late.

Being the one and only black person, in the one and only integrated school, in Birmingham, I stick out like a sore thumb, given disapproving looks, and snappy remarks. With each look, my confidence takes a violent hit, seeping further down to the floor. Yet I carry on, dragging my feet to...

Room 46?

Room 24, no.

Room 28, no.

Room 31, no.

Room 46.

Turning the corner, and entering the classroom, desks upon desks, rows on rows of free spaces, deeply frowning, tiredness filling my features, I slowly take my place, and sit down for my AP Chemistry lesson, screaming internally. While shooting quick glances, at all the strangers in my class.

Students impulsively file into random chairs, hurriedly sweeping past the empty space next to me, that everyone in the class seems to be focused on avoiding. Not wanting to be anywhere near me, staring at me, strong, obvious hate and loathing radiating from them.