Separate But Not Equal

Chapter XI

He comes so close to me that his breath is hitting my face, a smirk nearly scarring my eyes, facial hair only inches away from my body.

"If you don't watch out, Ivory, bad things will happen," he grabs a strand of my hair, my long hair curly and seemingly shorter because of shrinkage, twirling the curl round in his finger, the chilling smile never reaching to his eyes.

Going back to a neutral position, he straightens his freshly ironed uniform, adjusting his tie, walking off, briskly.

My eyes follow his retreating form, anger bubbling strongly inside my body overpowered by the herd of sadness and despair enlarging every second.

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

"Left for around 5 miles, then turn right..."

I struggle to keep my tears at bay, as I'm eagerly led away from the station, another police bordered by active security telling me the directions back home.

I wait for him to finish his sentence, stumbling away hastily down the sidewalk, Officer's eyes boring into my skull.

The closer I get to Birmingham, The closer my anxiety gets to tipping me over the edge.

Papa?

Why papa?

What could have possibly happened to Papa... and Christopher.

It's different, this time, I absorb all the dirty looks, sneers and mocking I receive, Looking them straight back in their eye, with my shattering ones.

I only now realize how many people, must hate me. The amount of uncivil individuals that I have never spoken to before, who still for some unknown reason look at me in disgust is utterly unbelievable.

I'm almost wounded down in sorrow when it turns dusk and I tumble onto the entrance steps, coughing uncontrollably.

Fresh, dark blood spills with each restricting choke.

"Ivory?" A worrisome low voice calls from above me.

Belonging to the one and only, Papa.

I feel my anger and resentment towards him slowly fade away scarcely touching the tips of my fingers, taking his hand to hoist my sweaty body off the floor.

He grabs me, painfully, squeezing the little energy I have left out of me.

"I'm so, so sorry, Ivy, we had a meeting about the kneel-ins, and the Birmingham Campaign, and I lost track of how long, we were - I..."

"No-No, no Dad, It isn't your fault, n-" My breath hitches. "Nothing happened, I'm fine."

His grip becomes even deadlier as he strokes my hair, leading me into the church, heartily.

I position myself carefully on the seat between Nieve and Acacia, wincing discretely as a shiver runs up my spine.

Acacia gives me a concerned look. Nieve pretends not to see or hear me.

I suddenly remember Nieve's strange behaviour from the last time we visited the market.

"They're talking about the Birmingham campaign." Acacia explains, as I nod my head, comprehending. "It was originally for early March, but clearly the time is long gone, they're thinking the second of April but it's only the adults."