Rain of the Slimax
Published by Lauren A. Johnson at Smashwords
Copyright 2010 Lauren A. Johnson.
I always hated it when it rained. In this town, it always brought out the worst in people. For awhile I started to believe that the rain was cursed. Every time it rained, something bad happened. And today it was my turn. I ran as fast as I could. Even though I was breathing in the cold winter air my lungs burned as I huffed and puffed. It was a week after my sixteenth birthday, February 20, 1955 in a small town not far from Pittsburg. My family and I moved to the north because we learned about the new jobs that were up here. I dare not turn around to see if the girls were getting any closer to me. I remember what they did to that other girl, like me, had done nothing to them. The other girl and I didn't know each other but I saw her as she passed me in the hall after they caught her and I saw that her beautiful coarse hair had been chopped off and her beautiful face was scarred. And now they said it was my turn; all because I was a lighter complexion than they were. Even though we were all African Americans I didn’t understand and I wished that things were different.