The Road Not Taken

The Road Not Taken

You knew didn’t you? You knew that he was a slave, a slave who has suffered from the hand of the colonialists, fine, you might have encouraged yourself that he didn’t suffer directly from them but only his great great grand parents did, you had dreamt about when he finds out about the movement you once supported, ‘Association Against Freedom of Slaves’, you knew he was going to find out one day, and still you were afraid to tell him.
‘I might lose him’ those were your thoughts those times when you went out to the open to talk with the stars and hug the moon, you remembered how you felt now, you only remembered those old memory of yours when his head is resting on your laps; smashed, not that when you threw the flower vase and it struck him in the head, ‘it was self defense’ that was your conclusion, he was hurting you and you couldn’t fight back, you had learn and attended all self defense classes organized by the school authorities, but when he folded your arms backwards, he had the strength of a thousand horses, he wouldn’t budge, no matter how you cried, his dark face scorned your soul and you saw fury streaming down his eyes, he found out about the movement from one of your friends and he was furious about it, he might have forgotten that you were a supporter of the ‘Movement for the Rights of the Black Americans’ and he has also forgotten that you sent mails to other movement for blacks across the nation declaring your support from them financially.
You admired your fair and smooth skin, and you couldn’t allow someone to destroy it, you saw the look on his face as he slumped down, it was self-pity, disdain, weakness and all the traits he has never shown, you knew the road of love taken with a Negro is a road not supposed to take, but it isn’t love, isn’t it? It’s infatuation, you liked how radical he has been to fighting injustice even though he did it with his fists, but yet you liked it though, you have forgotten that his fist also works on pretty skins and it was barely a week after your kiss that you had invited him for dinner which led to those things you watched on the internet.
Do not weep again,it wasn’t his fault, he liked the aroma of your skin and the sound of lust burning through you, he was angry, and still he wanted to indulge his lust also, you wouldn’t let him, would you? But you couldn’t, until he defiled you and still tried to beat you, you ran to the help of the ceramic flower vase and struck his head with it, he deserved what he got, but now you are going to trial for your indulgence, you know the law, and you are eighteen already, you know the road not taken but you have taken it and now you witness your life fading away as consequences of your ignorance.
Let’s pray for the departed soul, and may his soul find rest in hell.

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