The X-Men meets Stranger Things in this coming-of-age tale.
I, Nadine Jackson, believe in science and opportunities, not stories out of a comic book.
So as part of a school project, my friends Imogen 'Aria' Zhang, Marco Martinez, James Ryder and I...
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Zander opened the door wide so we can enter into a battered room with creaking floors, endless stairs, and white, cracked walls.
I shuddered as the cold breeze brushed my dark chocolate skin; the smell of dust and old bananas rushed inside my nostrils, urging me to hurl.
God, what a dump. I think.
We navigated across the room, but our feet kept knocking into empty cans, squishing in puddles of murky water, and stomping on dead cockroaches.
What's worse is that the room didn't even have a nice welcoming feel into it—just the shroud of death and hopelessness.
Even though I didn't like the apartment, I wasn't surprised.
Poverty is New York's biggest downfalls, and somehow I am living inside it.
I tried to keep my footsteps quiet, but the more I walked the more fragile the floor is. As the wooden stairs stood on left, in front of us is a long, yet sturdy wooden table.
Behind the furniture is a small kitchen which looked as though it's been exploded into smithereens.
I notice the wooden cabinets are wrecked, enormous puddles coming from the sink, and a broken refrigerator is covered in some kind of green mold.
"Wow, " I murmured, clutching my backpack.
"What happened here?" James mumble.
"Shitty luck, " Zander sigh. "The last building we had is a lot nicer than this."
"What happened?" I ask.
"The landlord didn't want us queers to ruin his business, " Zander explained. "And so, he kicked us out."
"Oh, my God," James murmured. "I am sorry to hear that."
But Zander shakes his head as if it was no big deal.
"It's fine, " he assured. "At least we got a place to stay."
I stare at Zander's solemn face in disbelief.
"But that seems unfair, " I say. "No offense, Zander, but this place is a dump."
Zander smirked, "It's nice to have someone who cares."
Removing her backpack, Aria wanders over to the table, places her butt on the surface, and asked Zander, "How are the others?"
He tells her that they are sleeping upstairs.
"Oh, that's good, " Marco responded in relief.
Then stretching his arms out, he asked: "So, how's your family, Zander?"
He rolled his eyes. "If you are asking if they accepted my dreams of becoming a Drag King performer, then the answer is no."
