Sweenerdog32
03-11-2008, 8:32 PM
I wrote this for an assessment in-class, and I really loved how it turned out, and was just looking for some more creative criticism.
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Great. Same day, same job, same life. I open my eyes, and immediately wince as the sun burns my retinas. I roll over and ease open my stinging eyes, and look down at my body. Great, still black. Isn't life wonderful? I sit up and let the sheets slide off me. Glance at the clock: 8:30. Shit. Late. I moan as I come to a stand, not that there's anyone around that cares. Come to the first big decision of the day: shower, or not to shower? I pick the former, I don't need people giving me more of a hard time then they already do. Ten minutes later, I pull my clothes on, tie my shoes and half-jog out the door of my apartment.
Over to the elevator, press the button. The twin doors slide smoothly open with a cheerful 'ding'. "Shut up", I mutter out loud, and step into the carpeted box. Down, down, down, stop. The door slides open again. Woman gets in, and stands in the opposite corner. Typical white response. Don't let the black man get you, he's probably savage. Off we go again.
Finally, the doors slide open to reveal the lobby, in all its carpet and marble glory. The place doubles as a hotel, so it's pretty much a hell-hole during summer break. The rest of the year, it isn't too bad, and I can live with it. I take a deep breath before I open the heavy wooden door to reveal cold, dark, uncaring New York. The air is cool, nice breeze. Autumn is easily my favourite season. Not too hot, cold enough to snow. Balance. Ok, here we go. No car, so I have to resort to the scum of the public transport world.
The subway. How I loathe you. No racism on the subway. I trudge down the stairs, drowning in self-pity. Over to the turnstile. Pay my fare; push the cold bar aside with my hip. Now I wait.
I hear the clattering of the train long before I see its graffitied, sorry excuse for carriages pull into the station. Peek at my watch: 8:45. Great. Second day late this week, and it's only Wednesday. Boss might fire me; replace me with a younger, more adept white guy. Wouldn't doubt it, and wouldn't care if it wasn't my only source of income, not that you could really call it that, with the wage I'm getting.
Back to reality. Board the train before everyone else so I can watch them avoid me. I sit directly in the middle of the carriage for extra laughs. Watch as people walk in, look at me, the go sit at the furthest possible distance. Eventually, only a few seats left, all near me. Surprise, surprise. One last guy boards. Weedy guy in a suit, powerful behind his desk but pathetic in the real world. I see his distaste as he figures it out. I don't mind, I'm used to it. Nevertheless, I do nothing to encourage hum as he approaches. Sullen face, staring eyes, crossed arms. I keep my gaze fixed on him until he sits. Think I've made him uncomfortable. I hope so.
Subway speeds along. I think about my life. How kids at school used to pick on me, until I broke one of their arms. Then they just left me alone. Everyone is racist, some people just show it more than others. It's our nature. The ones that defend blacks are the worst. Hypocrites. In public, they appear righteous and caring, but by themselves they're as bad as everyone else.
Clatter clatter on the tracks. One light dims and flickers further down the carriage. Constantly fighting between light and dark, before the blackness consumes it. Too bad that doesn't happen in the real world. The guy next to me is fidgeting, his glasses continuing to slide down his sweat-dotted nose. Oh yeah, he's scared. Probably believes the 6 o'clock news. Every night, the headline story is the same. "Black man steals car", or "African American youth burns house down". Bullshit. Just the media sensationalizing things again. The all-powerful white man thinks he's losing the country. If they're losing, who's winning?
Brakes grind, sparks fly, train slows. The doors open with the all too familiar 'ding'. My stop. The same stop for seven years. I can sense the man next to me relax as I come to a stand. Damn foot's gone to sleep. I limp to the exit and hop onto the tiled staircase, but not before a final glare at the remaining passengers. Shake my leg to get some feeling back, then up the stairs and into the cool, pollution-filled air once more.
I walk down the cracked pavement sidewalk. People everywhere, so many of them just like me, and yet so different. I feel alone, separated. I always have, as long as I can remember. It doesn't bother me. Too much. I'm pretty sure whoever made the phrase "everybody has somebody" forgot about me.
Snapped back to the real world again by the rush of vehicles speeding through the intersection. Cars, one of the few things in life where black is good. My feet begin to drag as I get closer and closer to my most hated of places. I slow, and check my watch again. 9:10. Not good. I will myself to keep going, pushing thoughts about returning to bed out of my mind.
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I've tried numerous times to expand on it, but could never get it quite right. Any advice?
Oh, and by the way, who do I talk to about changing my name?
-------
Great. Same day, same job, same life. I open my eyes, and immediately wince as the sun burns my retinas. I roll over and ease open my stinging eyes, and look down at my body. Great, still black. Isn't life wonderful? I sit up and let the sheets slide off me. Glance at the clock: 8:30. Shit. Late. I moan as I come to a stand, not that there's anyone around that cares. Come to the first big decision of the day: shower, or not to shower? I pick the former, I don't need people giving me more of a hard time then they already do. Ten minutes later, I pull my clothes on, tie my shoes and half-jog out the door of my apartment.
Over to the elevator, press the button. The twin doors slide smoothly open with a cheerful 'ding'. "Shut up", I mutter out loud, and step into the carpeted box. Down, down, down, stop. The door slides open again. Woman gets in, and stands in the opposite corner. Typical white response. Don't let the black man get you, he's probably savage. Off we go again.
Finally, the doors slide open to reveal the lobby, in all its carpet and marble glory. The place doubles as a hotel, so it's pretty much a hell-hole during summer break. The rest of the year, it isn't too bad, and I can live with it. I take a deep breath before I open the heavy wooden door to reveal cold, dark, uncaring New York. The air is cool, nice breeze. Autumn is easily my favourite season. Not too hot, cold enough to snow. Balance. Ok, here we go. No car, so I have to resort to the scum of the public transport world.
The subway. How I loathe you. No racism on the subway. I trudge down the stairs, drowning in self-pity. Over to the turnstile. Pay my fare; push the cold bar aside with my hip. Now I wait.
I hear the clattering of the train long before I see its graffitied, sorry excuse for carriages pull into the station. Peek at my watch: 8:45. Great. Second day late this week, and it's only Wednesday. Boss might fire me; replace me with a younger, more adept white guy. Wouldn't doubt it, and wouldn't care if it wasn't my only source of income, not that you could really call it that, with the wage I'm getting.
Back to reality. Board the train before everyone else so I can watch them avoid me. I sit directly in the middle of the carriage for extra laughs. Watch as people walk in, look at me, the go sit at the furthest possible distance. Eventually, only a few seats left, all near me. Surprise, surprise. One last guy boards. Weedy guy in a suit, powerful behind his desk but pathetic in the real world. I see his distaste as he figures it out. I don't mind, I'm used to it. Nevertheless, I do nothing to encourage hum as he approaches. Sullen face, staring eyes, crossed arms. I keep my gaze fixed on him until he sits. Think I've made him uncomfortable. I hope so.
Subway speeds along. I think about my life. How kids at school used to pick on me, until I broke one of their arms. Then they just left me alone. Everyone is racist, some people just show it more than others. It's our nature. The ones that defend blacks are the worst. Hypocrites. In public, they appear righteous and caring, but by themselves they're as bad as everyone else.
Clatter clatter on the tracks. One light dims and flickers further down the carriage. Constantly fighting between light and dark, before the blackness consumes it. Too bad that doesn't happen in the real world. The guy next to me is fidgeting, his glasses continuing to slide down his sweat-dotted nose. Oh yeah, he's scared. Probably believes the 6 o'clock news. Every night, the headline story is the same. "Black man steals car", or "African American youth burns house down". Bullshit. Just the media sensationalizing things again. The all-powerful white man thinks he's losing the country. If they're losing, who's winning?
Brakes grind, sparks fly, train slows. The doors open with the all too familiar 'ding'. My stop. The same stop for seven years. I can sense the man next to me relax as I come to a stand. Damn foot's gone to sleep. I limp to the exit and hop onto the tiled staircase, but not before a final glare at the remaining passengers. Shake my leg to get some feeling back, then up the stairs and into the cool, pollution-filled air once more.
I walk down the cracked pavement sidewalk. People everywhere, so many of them just like me, and yet so different. I feel alone, separated. I always have, as long as I can remember. It doesn't bother me. Too much. I'm pretty sure whoever made the phrase "everybody has somebody" forgot about me.
Snapped back to the real world again by the rush of vehicles speeding through the intersection. Cars, one of the few things in life where black is good. My feet begin to drag as I get closer and closer to my most hated of places. I slow, and check my watch again. 9:10. Not good. I will myself to keep going, pushing thoughts about returning to bed out of my mind.
-------
I've tried numerous times to expand on it, but could never get it quite right. Any advice?
Oh, and by the way, who do I talk to about changing my name?