Those that know him have constantly questioned the scar on his neck. They see it travel down his chest, below the v-neck he wears unassumingly. They don’t know just how big the scar is or how it came to exist. Just that every scar has a story and to sympathise one needs to know all the gory details of what happened.
x
She stands on the podium and looks at the jury. Crying and talking, she didn’t know that they notice her breasts more than her story. How could a woman this attractive be telling the truth? Look at how hot she is, she was asking for it! The man stands and screams, overpowering her. She starts crying. Immature? Indeed, but what else can be expected from a thirteen year old?
x
They crossed it, the border. They can be themself. They can breathe. Freedom is in the air and America truly is great. They’ll soon get their documents and legalise the process. For now, it was too dangerous to stay. They made it, they made it, the-
A gunshot.
x
She’s all alone, waiting for her turn. Her feet constantly hit the ground without her commanding them to do so and her thumbs engage themselves in a battle of their own. She’s biting her lip, trying to muffle the sound that’ll emerge if she let’s go. The place smells and she wants to leave. She takes out her coursework and attempts to get her homework done as she waits. A woman walks out, clearly in pain. Is it the stitches or a sense of loss that hurts her? The place smells and she is called into the surgery room.
x
Together they walk, hand in hand. They hear footsteps and and unclasp. Their lives are more precious than their truth. They look back and there is no one there now. He looks at his partner and they steal a kiss. Kissing him is worth all this, he tells himself. Safety over truth, he tells himself.
x
He opens up the letter, more excited than ever.
“Dear Mary,”
He sighs but reads on.
“We regret to inform you…”
His face scrunches up.
“My name is Marlon,”he says to no one in particular.
x
He was a threat. His skin colour informed the cop of his crimes, didn’t it?
x
She was a terrorist. Have you seen what she drapes over her head? Okay, fine, maybe she died protecting little children from a school shooter but you don’t get it. The shooter had a problem, okay? This is about mental health. Don’t be insensitive.
x
Be loud. Scream for those that have lost their voice.
Change is in our hands and we are not stepping down.
xx
This is a little different from what I usually post here but it's important to for me to say. The Youthlens is about what we think, what you think. Open your mind. Think. Speak.
