OUR WORLD
This story come to me after my younger sister reminded me of our old imaginary friends. We were creative kids. We didn't just talk to people who weren't there, we would act out each characters' personality and create different stories as our characters grew up. The stories would get more complex as we got older. I decided to start writing about these old friends.
This is the story of three friends who, during a worldwide disaster find out the truth about thier world.
Racisim is like a hot sause stain on my white skirt. You need to wash it away quick or you won't be able to get it out. Ever. Before The Incident, life was very easygoing. No drama at school, no home problems, I got good grades, and I loved being me. After The Incident, I had no family, there was no school, and racisim was running rampart. But the ones who were racist were the ones who fought it so long ago.
It all began about a month ago. There was an outbreak of a deadly gas that was released by a psycho scientist who got angry at his boss for sleeping with his wife. He then concocted a wide-spreading gas that he called KJ+RM, after Kaila Jacobs, his wife and Ronald Miller, his boss. He released the gas in his home in Flordia and was the first to die. Then people everywhere started to drop dead. It seemed whomever the gas came into contact with got a serious cough and headache before dying slowly a few days later.
The gas seemed to only affect adults. Children, people who weren't older then 20 years old were spared. But without grown-ups to run the electricity or produce products, there was no watching t.v or eating anything that needed to be refrigerated. That's okay.
I still had my garden and fruit trees in the backyard of my house which was knocked down by rebel kids from the next town for firewood. The door to the basment is the door to my home. When I'm not standing sadly above the two graves I made for my mom and dad in the backyard, I walk through the silent and seemingly empty roads absent-mindedly. But one pretty chilly November morning while I was walking, I didn't hear silence. I heard a very deep and ghetto sounding girl singing a Japanese theme song:
I'll go the distance
mihateru sora wa blue
Narikonda star ship
kore ga saikou forever trip
"Hello?" I called out. I couldn't tell where the voice was coming from. Then all of a sudden, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I jumped, pulled out the field knife strapped to my right thigh and turned around a very dark girl with short black dreadlocks, a dark green tank top, bright orange shorts and black sneakers.
"Yo, honey! Put that butterknife down! I just wanted to say hi!" she said putting her hands up. I put away my weapon and looked her in the eye. "You don't look like the type of person who'd like anime." I said looking her up and down. She put a hand on her hip. "What, chu thank anime is for the Chinese and white folk?" she said looking irritated. I shook my head.
"No, its just that I never meet another black person who liked anime like that. That theme song you were singing, Naruto Shippuden, second season, right?" Her anger sudsided. "So you like the orange bratha with the blue eyes too, huh?"
I motioned for her to join me walking.She did. And we both started to sing the song together:
You are my friend, aa
Ano hi no yume
Ima de mo mada wasurete nain desha
You are my dream,aa
hajimatta bakka
kimi no one longest way
oh, ima tobidatsu yo
We'd been walking for a while when we saw a group of kids near the park, in the middle of the road. There were about six twelve year old boys and they were in a circle around something and they were yelling. "Get that skinny white boy! Get his backpack!" I heard one yell.
I quickly ran over, spun one boy around and threw a hard uppercut to his jaw and he hit the pavement hard. All the others stopped kicking and punching a balled up figure on the ground. I pulled out my knife to keep them at bay and bent down to see if the boy on the ground was okay.
He looked up and I saw through his mussed brown hair sparkling blue eyes that were filled with fear. He looked to be around the same age as me and the other girl, fourteen. "Come on. Its okay. Get up." I said pulling him up by one arm. The girl with dreads ran over with somthing in her hand and gave it to him. He greatfully took it and put on his glasses.
One of the boys with a cap on came over to her and pushed her a bit. "Yo! Miss Chocolate! What'chu and your friend doin' helpin' this little white kid?"
Her features twisted in anger. She spun around quick, took a handgun from her right pocket aimed and fired. A black cap flew through the air as all the boys ran off.
"That's right! Cha' better run! If ya call me 'chocolate' again, I pop a cap in all ya fat heads, ya hear me!?"
She turned back to me and the boy who were both shocked. She leaned down to pick up the cap and put it on the boy's head. "Yo man, I'm Damika. Who's you?" A bit more spunk came to his face. "I'm Steve" he said in a sweet and smooth voice. I smiled at him and patted his shoulder. "I'm Vanessa. We should stick together and help each other out" I said happily. But still, deep inside, thought about how the world seemed so mixed up.
It all began about a month ago. There was an outbreak of a deadly gas that was released by a psycho scientist who got angry at his boss for sleeping with his wife. He then concocted a wide-spreading gas that he called KJ+RM, after Kaila Jacobs, his wife and Ronald Miller, his boss. He released the gas in his home in Flordia and was the first to die. Then people everywhere started to drop dead. It seemed whomever the gas came into contact with got a serious cough and headache before dying slowly a few days later.
The gas seemed to only affect adults. Children, people who weren't older then 20 years old were spared. But without grown-ups to run the electricity or produce products, there was no watching t.v or eating anything that needed to be refrigerated. That's okay.
I still had my garden and fruit trees in the backyard of my house which was knocked down by rebel kids from the next town for firewood. The door to the basment is the door to my home. When I'm not standing sadly above the two graves I made for my mom and dad in the backyard, I walk through the silent and seemingly empty roads absent-mindedly. But one pretty chilly November morning while I was walking, I didn't hear silence. I heard a very deep and ghetto sounding girl singing a Japanese theme song:
I'll go the distance
mihateru sora wa blue
Narikonda star ship
kore ga saikou forever trip
"Hello?" I called out. I couldn't tell where the voice was coming from. Then all of a sudden, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I jumped, pulled out the field knife strapped to my right thigh and turned around a very dark girl with short black dreadlocks, a dark green tank top, bright orange shorts and black sneakers.
"Yo, honey! Put that butterknife down! I just wanted to say hi!" she said putting her hands up. I put away my weapon and looked her in the eye. "You don't look like the type of person who'd like anime." I said looking her up and down. She put a hand on her hip. "What, chu thank anime is for the Chinese and white folk?" she said looking irritated. I shook my head.
"No, its just that I never meet another black person who liked anime like that. That theme song you were singing, Naruto Shippuden, second season, right?" Her anger sudsided. "So you like the orange bratha with the blue eyes too, huh?"
I motioned for her to join me walking.She did. And we both started to sing the song together:
You are my friend, aa
Ano hi no yume
Ima de mo mada wasurete nain desha
You are my dream,aa
hajimatta bakka
kimi no one longest way
oh, ima tobidatsu yo
We'd been walking for a while when we saw a group of kids near the park, in the middle of the road. There were about six twelve year old boys and they were in a circle around something and they were yelling. "Get that skinny white boy! Get his backpack!" I heard one yell.
I quickly ran over, spun one boy around and threw a hard uppercut to his jaw and he hit the pavement hard. All the others stopped kicking and punching a balled up figure on the ground. I pulled out my knife to keep them at bay and bent down to see if the boy on the ground was okay.
He looked up and I saw through his mussed brown hair sparkling blue eyes that were filled with fear. He looked to be around the same age as me and the other girl, fourteen. "Come on. Its okay. Get up." I said pulling him up by one arm. The girl with dreads ran over with somthing in her hand and gave it to him. He greatfully took it and put on his glasses.
One of the boys with a cap on came over to her and pushed her a bit. "Yo! Miss Chocolate! What'chu and your friend doin' helpin' this little white kid?"
Her features twisted in anger. She spun around quick, took a handgun from her right pocket aimed and fired. A black cap flew through the air as all the boys ran off.
"That's right! Cha' better run! If ya call me 'chocolate' again, I pop a cap in all ya fat heads, ya hear me!?"
She turned back to me and the boy who were both shocked. She leaned down to pick up the cap and put it on the boy's head. "Yo man, I'm Damika. Who's you?" A bit more spunk came to his face. "I'm Steve" he said in a sweet and smooth voice. I smiled at him and patted his shoulder. "I'm Vanessa. We should stick together and help each other out" I said happily. But still, deep inside, thought about how the world seemed so mixed up.
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