The End

Dear Diary,

It’s about 12 am and we have been walking for hours. We are taking a short break. I have never felt so weak and defenseless in my life. It’s so hard to put on foot in front of the other. And to think, I have to do that a billion more times. But, it’ll be worth it. When we get there we’ll be safe. I know it’s crazy to think that everything will magically fall into place once we, illegal immigrants mind you, reach Canada. But, anything will be better than this. Got to go, we’ve got to start walking again.

8:37 pm. That’s the time we reached Canada. That’s the time everything went wrong. Once we reach the boarder, the officers there realized we didn’t have passports. We were thrown into jail. Now, the jail thing isn’t that bad really. I have a bed, and 3 guaranteed meals everyday. What’s bad is that we got separated. My dad and Mr. Petersburg got sent to a jail for males. My mom and my sister got sent to a female jail. And I  got sent to a juvenile detention center. I don’t know what’s going to happen. I don’t know how to cope with this. Everything I’ve been through, I got through with the help of my family (Mr. Petersburg included). Now what am I supposed to do?!?!? I know that prayer is the answer, but I can’t keep these thoughts out of my head 24/7.

It’s been a 23 days since I was allowed to write in you. I feel like I should start here since what I have to say is a continuation of what happened weeks ago. I was in the juvenile detention center until 1 day ago, which was yesterday. My time there was awful. The teens there were HUGE! None of them smiled. I don’t think I heard a single laugh. Anyway, fights happened all the time and I never felt safe. You know how some people say that they don’t belong somewhere. Well, that’s how I felt. I couldn’t relate to anyone on any level.

Thankfully my parents, sister, and Mr. Petersburg were released 4 days after they were arrested because they were adults. But, they had a hard time getting them to release me. I mean, what good was I to them? I didn’t even commit a crime. But long story short, we were all reunited.

I think I’m ready to close this part of my life and start a new. So, I don’t think I’m going to write in you anymore. We’ve had some good times together.

Goodbye.

Starved

Dear Diary,

I fear today might very well be my last time writing in you. You see, our food supply has been gone for the past two weeks. But, now our water has run out. We didn’t expect it to last, but with the addition of Mr. Petersburg, it ran out a little faster than we would have hoped. Don’t get me wrong, we are all happy that he is with us, and we wouldn’t change a thing. I just wish our story had a happier ending.

My dad says that we need to make the final trip to Canada by tomorrow or else we will be too weak later on down the road. In all honesty, I’m cold, hungry, wet, and just down right angry, but I will NOT let them win. I will NOT let this inconvenience take those dear to me. We WILL make it. Our people are known for their durability.

Of course, the first thing I’m going to do when I get to Canada is shower, take eat until I can’t move, then promptly fall asleep.

The New Law

Dear diary,

Mr. Petersburg had to join us in hiding. It seems we were right in assuming someone was tipping off the police. He came home one day and found three police cars outside his house. He stayed with a friend until he could make it to us. Oh well, the more the merrier I guess. But, in the short few days we have been here, a lot has changed.

Mr. Petersburg told us about how martial law had been set into play. The rules were absolutely ridiculous if I do say so my self.

1.     Caucasians and other ethnicities cannot be seen with an African American.

2.     Caucasians and other ethnicities must be home by 10 pm.

3.     African Americans are allowed to shop from 10 pm-12 am.

4.     African Americans can only get four items per person.

5.     African Americans must shop in their designated areas.

6.     African Americans are NOT allowed to be outside during daylight for any reason.

And last but certainly the stupidest of them all,

7.     African Americans cannot “mix” with another ethnicity.

These rules, these… limitations, are complete and utter rubbish. THEY DON’T EVEN MAKE SENSE.  If everyone has to be home by curfew, then who in this world is going to open his/her store for us? I’m sure it’s their plan for us to slowly starve to death.

You know, it’s sad that the only thing I found surprising is that they had the decency to say African American.

The Storm

Dear Diary,
Hey there. We arrived at the shed a few hours before sunrise and I am currently completely and utterly confused. The exact time: unknown. The date: unknown (even when I had a calendar I rarely knew). The location: unknown (though I'm sure we are about 5 hours away from Canada's boarder). As you can see, I know absolutely nothing other than the fact that we have only been here a few hours, and we already have a problem. There's a storm coming.

Now, I know what your thinking. It's just a storm. That's true, but how would you feel if the only thing separating you from pouring rain, menacing thunder, and lightening are 4 flimsy walls. I wouldn't be so afraid if the walls were, I don't know, STABLE! Not only do the walls look as if the could collapse at any give moment, but the roof has holes everywhere.


All we can do is pray.

The Move

Dear Diary,
Some people are getting suspicious of Mr. Petersburg. I don't know what tipped them off though. Maybe it was all the food he bought. That must be it because we have been laying lower than low. Anyway, back to the matter at hand. My dad and Mr. Petersburg think that we should close the distance between us and Canada ASAP. When they said ASAP, I was expecting next week at the earliest. But no, we are leaving tomorrow night. The universe loves toy with me.

It's not like we have a lot of stuff to pack and I would never really think of this pace as my home. But, I had grown accustom to the homey basement. I didn't think we would have to leave so soon. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm stupid enough to think that we could stay here until the government straightened themselves out. Still, that didn't mean I wasn't going to miss the place.

So, I asked my dad where we were going next. He said an abandoned shed on the property of an old friend. It's actually located in his cow pastor. I don't really know the condition this shed is in, but from what my dad said, it's like a barn. Basically four walls and a roof. Very spacious, but no separation of any kind. In short' the shed is one giant room with a few leaks here and there. Lovely right? Of course, I'm in no position to complain. Both my parents are alive and well. My sister is 100% recovered. We are all together. What more could a person of color ask for at a time like this?

I've got to go. My mom is currently haranguing me to start packing. Until next time.

Conflict

Dear Diary,

Ever since Sam got sick, my parents have been arguing non-stop. My mom wants to get  Sam help from a professional doctor. My dad doesn't. He says that if we do that, then what’s to stop the doctor from going to the police to turn us in. He thinks that if we get turned in, then they are going to kill us ASAP.

I understand both sides of the argument. Like my mom, I feel useless. All I can do is watch my sister suffer. But, I also agree with my dad. Death is not certain for Sam if she stays hidden but, once she is exposed, its’ all over.  I don’t really know what the right choice is, but I do know that arguing isn't going to help Sam in any way, shape, or form. They need to make a decision, and fast.

Sick

Dear Diary,

This past week has been rough. My sister’s been extremely sick. She is constantly covered in a thin layer of sweat even though she is shivering. She breaks into coughing fits that stretch on forever. She looks pale and she's loosing s weight way too fast to be healthy. No one knows what’s wrong with her. Mr. Pertersburg bought some could medicine for her. He even got his hand on some prescribed flu medicine, but nothing works. She’s just getting worse and it’s not like we can take her to a doctor. My mom has been crying, and my dad is really starting to get worried. All we can do is pray. I know that God does everything according to His plan, but I really hope that it’s in His plan to save my sister. I need her here, alive. 

Bye Bye

Dear Diary,
Today Mr. Petersburg came home with not so surprising news. The government is banning the use of technology for African-Americans and people who associated with African-Americans... shocker. Let's think about this logically, okay?
1. In the 21st century, almost every job has at least one Black person at their job, school, etc. which means that almost everyone in the U.S. is associated with an African American.
2. Why would the government think that the public would be okay with this technology lock down?
3. What kind of ignoramus wouldn't realize the kind of damage this technology lock down would have on their economy?

I just don't understand the government. I can't believe that THIS was their brilliant plan.

My Room

Dear Diary,

I don't really understand why, but lately, I've been thinking of home a lot. What's weird about it is that I'm not really thinking of my whole house, but a specific room. It's the den in my basement. That room was like my personal sanctuary. I could watch TV, play the piano, sing, eat, or just sit and think there .It was also the place where I let out my feelings. I miss the burnt orange color of the walls and the way the fire place would heat up the room in the winter. I miss the chocolate colored couches and the way they seemed to swallow up anyone who sat in them.

I don't know why I keep thinking about this when all it makes me feel is angry. I'm angry that I can't just go down stairs when ever I feel. I'm angry I have no where to let out my feelings anymore. I'm angry I don't have a place to call my own. But, most of all I'm angry that my den my special place, was taken away from me so easily. I feel like the whole world just wants to cause nothing but mayhem and anguish in my life. It's difficult to look on the bright side of things when nothing good happens anymore. 

Gone

Dear Diary,

Today Mr. Petersburg heard some of his co-workers talking about a recent arrest. Apparently, a young black walking down the street "bumped" into a white teenager girl. A man standing by saw and contacted the police. The police came and arrested the man for assault. This caused African-Americans across America to protest against the police force. Even though most of the pretest was peaceful, police said that they had to take drastic measure and forcefully remove the threat. If any of the protesters used self-defense, they were immediately arrested for assaulting a police officer.

You know, I wasn't really shocked by what happened. No, we accepted that kind of reaction from the law. Their ingenuity for ridiculous punishments is impressive to say the least. What got us was that the young man walking just happened to be my sister’s good friend Ivan. We couldn't believe that he was in jail over something so... TRIVIAL! Once I found out, I was instantly bombarded by a sea of emotions. I felt hurt that people thought so low of my kind. I felt betrayed because the very government that was supposed to protect its people allowed such outrageous things to happen. I was scared for Ivan. What about his family? What if he can't adapt to prison life? What if they kill him? Lastly, I left anger. I was angry that this happened. I was angry that no one was standing up for us. But, most of all, I was angry that I could do anything to help him.

AAAAHHHH I just want this to be over...soon.