Meka's POV
I hung up from Monroe and took a deep breath.
I looked at my painting of her. It was Monroe laying in bed. On her stomach, she doesn't sleep on her back or on her side.
I made sure I painted her talking on the phone with me, with her white sheets over her.
I'm sure her hair was in its usual bun.
I put my phone into my pocket then took my painting out of the studio. I walked down my hallway into the last door on the right.
I opened the door and smiled. I loved this room. I set my painting on the wall, adding it to my collection of Monroe paintings.
I walked over to a painting of Monroe and I that I drew last year. It was of us sitting at the park.
I love the park. I used to sneak out of the orphanage and sleep there some nights in Hawaii. The park always is so peaceful...
I always wondered if someone would see me there. I hoped that one day an adult would find me, and adopt me. I wished for that every night. I wished that maybe one day I could move into a foster home, and be loved by a family...or at least maybe the staff at the orphanage would talk to me.
But nobody liked black kid.
Especially once I got older.
My bed was in the corner of the cold room. I would sit in the corner, looking around at everyone. Observing how people interact with each other. Watching what it's like to have a friend. Every now and then, one of the other members of the orphanage would say 'hi' to me. I'd wave back, too afraid to say anything.
The second I'd raise my hand, they ran.
"Why does his hair look like that?!" They would yell from the hallway, peeking at me every other minute.
I don't know why my hair looks this way...nobody here looks like me.
Then I saw her.
I was sitting at the park alone on my twenty fifth birthday, sketch book and pencil in hand.
"Good morning Hawaii!" I heard a beautiful voice yell. I then heard a lot of cheering. I stood up and followed the voices through a group of trees.
I stood over the crowd of people. Hawaiians usually aren't too tall, especially compared to me. She was giving a speech about her charity that helps orphanages.
She had hair like mine, skin like mine.
I immediately sat on the grass and began to draw her.
"Hey kid!" A man yelled after a few minutes, "what the fuck are you doing?!"
Why was he mad at me? Why did he have to swear at me? My heart began to pound quickly as I stood up, afraid he would hit me.
"Woah!" He yelled looking up at me, "what are ya? A basketball player?!"
Why does everyone always think I'm a stinkin' basketball player?!
I turned and walked away from him. I looked down and noticed a sheet of paper on the ground. It was a flyer for the event.
"Monroe Jackson Charity Event," the top read.
I opened my phone and immediately went to google.
"Monroe Jackson." I typed.
She lives in the states...I need to move to the states.
I looked at my drawing of Monroe giving her speech in Hawaii. If only she knew...if only she knew.