Are you participating in Nanowrimo? What are you writing? (my nanowrimo username is sarahjordan828)
Here's an excerpt for my novel, Mahogany Descends
Summary: Can experts tell the difference between mental illness and paranormal phenomena?
I knew on the first day that moving here was a big fat mistake.
We turned the corner on the Avenue and passed a strange man who stood smoking a cigarette and looking off into the distance. He had a mustache and was wearing a hard hat. His eyes met mine and My body tensed up.
It was cloudy and leaves swirled around like a mini tornado. A murder of crows squawked and flew up in circles as we pulled into the driveway with the tan station wagon.
“This is it!” Dad said, smacking his hand on his knee. He turned the key in the ignition and the car went silent. The angel knick knack that dangled from rosary beads on the rear view mirror stopped dancing. Mom beamed at him and tied a clear plastic bonnet around her sleek black hair. they opened their doors to stepped onto rain-soaked grass.
I peered through the car window. The house looked dark and imposing. So did the house next to it. I could see tall pines that towered over the roofs from behind the houses in woods that seemed to go on forever.
Being big boned kept me feeling hot most of the time, but a chill crept down my spine and I shivered. Mom slogged through the long grass and Dad dropped the keys on his way to the front door.
I stroked hazel on my lap and closed my eyes to remember our old house, the only one I’d known for the last 17 years...the faded grayish siding that used to be blue, my favorite window with the colorful stained glass, the porch swing where I used to sit with Grandma and swing our troubles away…
I’ll probably never see that place again. It’s my fault for getting expelled from school in the first place.
It all started when that bitch Kierra started calling me Hoggy and Kool Aid Man.
One day in class...she practically danced around the room, shaking her slender hips, flipping her hot-combed hair. I still remember how the light glinted off of her gold hoop earrings.
She grinned like the Cheshire cat and a gold tooth winked at me from behind her perfectly shaped mouth.
I hated her. I wanted to be her. She was passing out papers for Miss Green.
And when she got to my seat, she whispered, “don’t you snatch that out of my hand, HOGGY” while staring me down like a cheeseburger.
As soon as I felt the page between my thumb and pointer finger, I pulled down hard. I had ripped the sheet out of her hand hard enough to give her a paper cut.
My hand sprung up to my cheek. She had slapped me in the face. My face burned like it was on fire.
“You freaking witch!” I screamed back.
Then I grabbed her gold hoop earring and pulled down just like the paper...I closed my eyes so I wouldn’t see it rip through her tiny ear lobe. But I felt it. And I’ll never forget the way it felt.
Suddenly Kierra was curled into in a ball on the floor kicking her platform sandals and screaming. A pool of blood under her head grew larger by the second. Dozens of students gawked at me with open mouths.
I threw the bloody earring and heard the clink it made as it hit the floor. My chest heaved and I gagged at the sight of so much blood. Blood gives me the creeps. I had to go on Valium to get me through my first menstrual period.
My legs burned as I jumped onto the metal chair to avoid getting blood on new Mary Janes that I had paid for with my own babysitting money.
“Do you know how serious this is?” Miss Green screamed…Her gray hair shook and her face looked ugly as she wagged her long finger at me. I wanted to rip it off.
“This would be called a hate crime if you were a white girl!” she hollered.
Fred’s snarky voice snapped back to the present moment. I opened my eyes. Hazel kneaded my lap with her black paws and meowed.
“Come on afro puff, grab your stuff and get out!”
My brother Fred unfolded his tall body. His corduroy jacket made swishing noises as he exited the car.
We’re twins but you wouldn’t know it by looking at us. He’s everything I’m not: tall, slim and his hair is soft. His skin is light for an African American. His eyes are green like my mother’s. I can feel what everyone else is feeling, but especially Fred. When he eats, my mouth waters. When he’s cold, goosebumps spring up on my skin. Being a twin is really weird. Fred isn’t as sensitive as I am. Fred loves being the center of attention with all eyes on him. I get drained from being around people I need to spend a lot of time alone. For this reason my mom thinks there's something wrong with me
One day when we were about 8 years old, I saw Fred dancing with Mom to some song random song on the radio. They were laughing uncontrollably as they shimmied around to the music. I never saw my mom look so happy.
A tear streamed down my cheek and fell off of my chin. Mom never ever looked at me the way she looked at Fred. I will never have that, I knew.
Sure, she was my Mom too...But I was always too outspoken. Too colorful. Too loud. Too fat. Too Much.
Mom’s scream broke me out of my daydream...