Writing 101 : A story told by a twelve-year-old

The neighbourhood has seen better days, but Mrs. Pauley has lived there since before anyone can remember. She raised a family of six boys, who’ve all grown up and moved away. Since Mr. Pauley died three months ago, she’d had no income. She’s fallen behind in the rent. The landlord, accompanied by the police, have come to evict Mrs. Pauley from the house she’s lived in for forty years.

Today’s prompt: write this story in first person, told by the twelve-year-old sitting on the stoop across the street.

 

 

It was a cold day.  Thank God I wore triple layered.  I could not remembered when dad last washed my blue jumper which kept me warm for the whole of this winter.  I wore a singlet inside my blue jumper and outside I have a brown pullover knitwear.  It used to have  a string dangling out but Mrs Pauley tied and knotted it.  She said a stitch came loose and never to pull it or the jumper will fall apart.

Mrs Pauley was the lady that lived across the road.  She was kind to me.  One day many years ago when I was five years old, she chased away the bigger kids that punched me to the ground and calling me “nigger”.  She dressed my wounds and I asked her what was a “nigger”.  She said it was a word that nasty white people used on black people to tell them they were different.   She told me never to be ashamed of my color.  Since that incident, I learned that “nigger” is just a word.  I am a “nigga” and when I think of kind Mrs Pauley, a white lady with a wrinkled face I am not afraid of that “n” word.  It can no longer hurt me.

I saw a police car and two policemen and Mr Brown, her landlord went inside the house.  I sat there on the stoop across the street and watched.  I hoped they won’t hurt Mrs Pauley.  She had been very sad since Mr Pauley died and I knew she had no money because she spent all her money buying medicine for Mr Pauley.  She told me she has six sons but I have never seen any of them.  Maybe Mrs Pauley talked to me because I am the only boy living in this block and she never minded that I am a “nigga”.

Then all these people came out and Mrs Pauley too.  She wasn’t crying but she looked sad.  I wanted to go across but Mr Brown looked so fierce and those policemen were big men and I shivered.  Are they taking her away?  I plucked up my courage, stood up and walked closer .  Mrs Pauley smiled at me.  She got into the police car carrying a torn luggage.  She turned her head and looked back as the car moved and I waved goodbye.  I felt very sad.  Mrs Pauley did not cry so I too must not cry.  I did not know where they are bringing her but I will always remember good old Mrs Pauley who taught me never to fear the word “nigger”.  One day when I am old enough to work and earn money, I am going to the police and find Mrs Pauley and bring her back home.

“Dear Momma―Wherever you are, if ever you hear the word “nigger” again, remember they are advertising my book.”
Dick Gregory, Nigger

via Daily Prompt : Local color

Refraction – colors and lights

Refraction – colors and lights

For this photo challenge, show us what “refraction” means to you. It could be an image taken in a reflective surface, it could be light bent from behind an object, or it could mean remedial math homework: the choice is … Continue reading

Love in 400 words

Love makes the world go round. Though no facts or figures proven, love can make one sink or rise. It is a powerful emotion.

There are many kinds of love all evolving around emotions, the care for another human being or an item. It can be a parent’s love for a child, siblings love, friendship, a couple’s love or love for a pet. It can also be love for material things which is sometimes good, most times bad. Love can become obsessive and an addiction.  As the saying goes, the love of money is the root of all evils.  Money is a means to an end but when one gets greedy that’s when love snaps and tragedy steps in.

In most cases a child is born out of love. In this destructive world some children are conceived through rapes not love. Some are born into a world of suffering and having to fight all odds to stay alive in poverty.  Irregardless of the nature of one’s birth whether born poor or rich, as long as there is love, there is survival. Love surrounds even in the most war-torn countries. Lives may be hard but everyone is capable of giving love. Love is caring, love is giving, love is comforting.  All these equal encouragement and hope in the darkest hour.

A new born child comes into the world with no expectations.  That child yearns to be loved.  Love to be fed, love to be cuddled and in return the child chuckles exuding love and bond to the carer.  Love is all it takes to create peace and harmony.

Love is free to give but priceless to receive.  Love is a two people thing. It takes one to give and another to receive. It may be one-sided in some cases.  When someone gives all the time, is there any point in time when the giver surrenders in exhaustion? Will there be a time when the receiver gets too much love?  If only there is a balance.  Some people are so blessed with love while others are deprived of love.

True love is unconditional and rewarding. When one gives and not expect, the reward is the inner sense of satisfaction from doing good deeds to your fellowmen, sharing and caring for the less fortunate in making the world a better place to live.

What does love means to you in four hundred words?

via Writing 101 : Don’t Stop the Rockin’
Today is a free writing day. Write at least four-hundred words, and once you start typing, don’t stop.
Four-hundred words. One at a time. Go.