The race

Dude, how the fuck are you going to sit there and use the word nigga like my black ass aint even sitting here? Hello! Do you hear me fucking talking to you? That's the last thing that I heard before my face was being set on fire, my ears were ringing and my neck almost did an exorcist move. When I came to everyone was hovering over me but even then getting home went by in a blur of kicks and slaps. Jalia had handled the hell out of me and I wasnt sure how to feel about it. Walking into the house my mom had barely noticed me because she was so busy on the phone so I took the time to tiptoe passed her and into my bedroom. Rotating my jaw I looked into the mirror, touching my face as if it were so delicate that it would fall off. A tear forced its way to the surface of my eye but I was too unwilling to allow for myself to feel the burn of my wrong actions to let it fall. Breathing heavily I fell onto the bed, wincing as I had just remembered the rest of my bodily pain. Looking at my phone I had hoped that after doing all of that, that Jalia would text me that I was forgiven. It was wishful thinking and I had definitely crossed the line. Just great, I had only recently started at this school and was already fucking it up for myself. I just wanted to fit in. I've always wanted to fit in and somehow always succeeded in ruining my chances. I just didn't want to be "the white girl " this time. I thought that if I acted black, wore pretty clothing , and started speaking Ebonics that id blend in perfectly. I assumed that I had secured my spot amongst them once Jalia had said "damn sis I see you". In my mind I was accepted into black heaven where fried chicken would rain down upon me and id suddenly be able to dance. Obviously none of this was true and here I am today looking like pippy long stockings meets knuck if you buck, without an ounce of fight in me. So let me explain how I got into such a position as this.