black girls

Strange Fruit

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**Scholarship Submission**

The Monster is stealthy, as the girl’s vulnerability is viciously exploited. Her responses are slow as she lazily drags herself off of the dampened cardboard her father calls a bed. She examines herself, the rich ebony skin she despises, now blanched. Inscriptions of red remind her of yesterday, the day before then, and so on. She then makes her way into the bathroom, although blurred vision hinders her momentarily as she scrubs away the morning’s adhesive from her eyes. Afterwards, she looks in the mirror, disgusted, as the Monster weaves itself into her mind to do its damage. The dingy gray dress, off-colored from years of wear, attempts to accompany her broad frame. Her reflection in the looking glass shows a beautiful girl in reality, although the monster manipulates her brain into thinking otherwise. Thick dark curls bounce off her neck, yet to her, the coarse untamed hair is unsightly.

Hysterical emotions emerge as if the mirror reflected more than just her warped image. Seconds later, glass shatters, tinkling delicately across the floor as if hundreds of wind chimes sang their enchanting lullaby. Following the motion is a smell she knows all too well as the dense aroma of blood encompasses the room. Her glass-pierced fist is messily wrapped by strips of the soiled dress as it shakes violently. The bathroom, an abstract working of Picasso, is continuously decorated as the bleeding persists, although her vision is dulling. Darkness overtaking her mind, the Monster reminds her of the constant teasing she receives at school. “No one likes dark-skinned girls,” as quoted by her former best friend, is a constant reminder of why she doubts her beauty. She utters something unintelligibly as the Monster lulls her away to unconsciousness.

She wakes to find the rust-colored bathroom just as she vaguely remembered it. She struggles to remember where her father is, until she recalls that he attended a conference with his fellow carpenters. She crawls her way out of the bathroom, in an attempt to regain her energy and consciousness. Fresh air rejuvenates her, as she walks to the garage. The air, saturated with sawdust, forces her squinty eyes to search frantically. The dim light offers minimal assistance; however, she obtained some items and made her way back to the room, although the Monster still lingers behind her. The Monster senses the hope building up inside her and again bull-rushes her with negativity.

Once again, she makes her way into the bathroom and is unaffected by the scenery of the recent affair. Eventually, she advances toward the sink, the blood-laced glass poking at her feet. She proceeds to remove the gown, as she picks up the largest fragment of glass on the floor. A young African American woman, only 16, finds hers body to be vile. She looks into the shard of glass and observes: a bulbous nose, plump lips, curly hair, and dark skin, traits she detests. Subsequently, the Monster pushes her into her room to get the supplies she gathered early. She took them into the bathroom and assembled a deadly device. The knife cut ruggedly until the length was perfect, she felt no remorse. Uplifting the knife and as a final act of defiance, she aggressively carved “Kala”, her name, into both her thighs.

Pain, blood, and sorrow were all coursing through her veins as tears scurried down her brown face. No letter is written, her absence of this world will be questioned by all. The Monster has drained her emotionally, sadistically pushed her past her limit. The garrote that she has created is suspended in position, aching to embrace her. She places her neck through the rough material of the rope, a chair underneath her as she gives in to the Monster. Consequently, the Monster summoned all his strength to push the chair from under her feet. The thick fibers were clawing at her neck, its choke-hold strong and unforgiving as her chocolate skin flushed red instantaneously. She kicked her feet desperately in hopes of recovering some grip on reality to undo this deed, but it was too late. Strange fruit is an appropriate description indeed, as her lifeless carcass hung, a life lost too soon. The Monster laughed at her knowing that his goal has been acquired, and proceeded to find another victim to torment.