Some people have the luxury to love their parents, I wish I could say that about mine. Being eighteen and growing up in Alabama Georgia isn't what I'd call the best place to raise a family but then again my parents wouldn't change if we half way across the globe. See, their a bit close minded when it comes to race. 'Whites keep to themselves, it's better on everyone if we don't go messing around with them others.' Out of everything you could teach a child my father taught us this. Mother seemed not as bad as him but still had her opinion of people of color. My brothers seem to get along fine with the ideal that whites are better...and being the third son I'm expected to feel the same but I don't. Everyone is an equal in my eyes. God created us all to live in his world and take care of us in our journey home. I'm ashamed to call them family most of the time. I feel guilty for having to love them but no one can pick their family, if I could I wouldn't be here suffering right now. With the whole family being racist and that really not sitting well with me I enrolled into a diverse school and that didn't sit well with them. Well, no one can live for their parents, that's madness! In doing so I found the love of my life, Lila. From the moment I saw her my heart skipped a beat and right then and there I knew what I was meant to do in my life. Granted those are strong feelings to have for someone at such a young age but I felt them nonetheless. I loved how her voice painted the sky, eyes would shine far brighter then any star oh..how I could go on and on about Lila's beauty. She was perfect for me in any and every way possible but there was one problem...
...she's black...
...and I'm white...
Most people would consider that a problem, most people meaning my family. I don't know how they would...wait I do know how they would take this and it wouldn't be sitting down. They would blow it way out of proportion and make it into a crime for a white boy to love a black girl. Judging by them I can tell that confessing my love for her would put her in danger for there is no telling what my father might do. I'd kill him myself before I let him put a hand on her, she couldn't help us falling in love and no one could. I really enjoy spending my time with Lila, she's the better half of me so to speak.
James took a much needed break from reading his past journal entries. Things had changed so much from that confession and it was hard to tell which way was up anymore. Making his way to his kitchen he fixed himself a glass of water to calm his jittery nerves. "Six years..." He muttered to the silence that greeted him. "It's been six years..." Finishing the glass he sat it in the sink and slowly walked back up to his bedroom. Passing a picture of Lila he stopped dead in his tracks...picking up the photo of them at the city fair. Tears burned his eyes thinking of the happiest days of his life. Taking the photo with him he laid across his bed finding a bit of restless sleep.
