Alicia was one of the first four black students in 1956 to register to a previously all-white university after the desegregation in the US. What would happen to Alicia when she meets her childhood enemy, the daughter of her momma's employee, in that same university? Would she be able to forgive her?
This is a short story for a writing competition for my faculty's creative writing competition in my third semester with the theme of education and won the second place (yay). If you're curious, read on!
No More a Living Corpse
E. Deborah Kalauserang
It was the 20th August of 1956 in Jerryfields, USA. It was a sunny day yet tension filled the air. I was walking towards the central building of Harrison University along with my other three friends to register. White guys and girls were staring at our group. They parted a way for us to get into the building. LeShay, my twin, clasped my hand tightly in hers. I squeezed back her hand, silently assuring her that everything is going to be alright.
“She’s here,” LeShay whispered in my ear and nodded towards a slender, blonde figure wrapped in scarlet.
“I know,” I replied, trying to be emotionless.
We climbed up the shiny, marble steps of the central building. I looked back, catching the sight of her—Amelia. For a moment, I could see a flicker of hatred sparked inside her electric blue eyes. A slow burn stirred inside of me.
“Alicia, forgive. Or you’ll be a living corpse,” said my momma two days before my registration.
I threw my glance away from the sight of the blonde figure. I’m sorry momma, I can’t.
Oh Lord, if it isn’t for the sake of my momma, I wouldn’t be going to this damned university.
This is the first time Harrison University projects integration 2 years after the Brown v. Board decision was issued by the Supreme Court—which stated that the “separate but equal” education is unconstitutional. All I know is that this is a big change for me and my people, and it also means that we get to be in the same school with the whites.
“Alicia, it’s your turn to register,” Demetrius called out to me from the front desk.
I stepped forward bravely. I felt the weight of every eyes on me, especially Amelia’s gaze searing through my back. I wrote down my name with a black fountain pen. I chuckled.
A black pen for a black person.
***
One month after the registration, things were going well. Being stared at in the hallway or getting into the same bathroom as the whites is now a common thing for me now. It wasn’t until yesterday that things began to get worse for me.
“Every culture has its own identity, voiced by their everyday life and social system. Most of all, it’s represented by their work of literature,” explained the professor.
“How about the niggers’, then?” whispered one voice behind me.
“Shh...She’ll hear you.”
“They’re nothing but sex and drugs, just like their parents,” said a voice whom I fairly recognized, “apple doesn’t fall far from their tree, ladies.”
I felt the heat on my cheeks.
Amelia hates me since the day I was brought by momma to the mayor’s house ten years ago. I’ve watched my dear momma scrubbing every inch of his floor until her hands were wrinkled. I helped her finish all the other chores with my small hands. Thank the good Lord that master and mistress Huntingdon are so kind to us.
“Alicia, would you like to go to college?” asked Mr. Huntingdon one day.
I stopped wiping the table.
“Why, yessuh,” I replied in disbelief.
“I know you would. Take this envelope,” he eyes twinkled.
My fingers opened it eagerly, revealing a letter of acceptance to Harrison University.
“Sweet baby Jesus,” I covered my mouth with the palm of my hand, “Oh, thank you sir! Thank you! Bless you Mr. Huntingdon!”
“Now my girl is a college girl!” he gave out a hearty laugh.
Later did I notice that someone was watching me from the door. It was Amelia Huntingdon.
“Alicia,” LeShay patted my arm, “don’t space out, sistuh. Class is over. Let’s go to the cafetaria.”
I nodded and quietly followed her out.
***
“This is segregation in integration,” Demetrius remarked.
“What are you tryin’ to say, man?” Jamal nodded at Demetrius.
“This,” Demetrius waved at our table, “No one else sits here every damned time except fo’ us.”
“The niggas’ reserved table,” Jamal chuckled.
“How’s the people treatin’ you so far, Alicia?” Demetrius questioned me.
Before I could answer, Amelia and her group entered the hall, laughing about something.
“Those black people—my fiancé once caught them stealing apple from his tree. He got that dog imprisoned! And what’s worse, that nigger is his own gardener!”
“Oh, that’s what they are, darling—thieves! They take people for granted just like someone I know who makes her own way to this very building. In fact, she’s here,” Amelia snickered, passing my table.
My cheeks burned.
“Alicia, I’m sorry. I swear...”
“No, Demetrius. I ain’t got no problem with that,” I cut his sentence, “Don’t ever apologize about it again.”
And with that, I finished my meal and left the cafetaria.
***
It was 5 PM. The campus was nearly empty after the last period. No more footsteps were heard.
I looked into the mirror of the girls’ restroom.
Curly hair.
Thick lips.
Big nose.
Black.
Thief.
No. It’s only by the kindness of Mr. Huntingdon that I’m able to be admitted to Harisson. Never in my life I take people for granted. I’m not a thief. Never. My eyes stung. Like Armstrong said, what did I do to be so black and blue?
A click sound escaped through the door handle. I whirled around to reach for the door knob. Panic washed over me as I tried to open the door frantically. It wouldn’t budge. Within a few seconds, a flood of blue liquid surged through the gap of the door’s feet. I know the sharp odor too well. It is the kind my mommma use to scrub the stains with.
Someone was pouring detergent into the bathroom. In no time, dizziness overcame me. If I don’t act quickly, I will faint.
“Someone, help! Please!” I cried out.
I banged on the door. No one answered to my call for 20 minutes.
“Sistuh!”
“LeShay! Git me outta heah’ right now,” I sobbed.
“Hold on sistuh! Stay ‘way from the door. Imma knock it down wid a chair!”
I could hear the chair banging the wooden door over and over.
“It’s working! The knob’s screw is starting to fall off!” I cried.
With a final bang, the door knob broke with a gust of fresh air. LeShay scrambled inside, hugging me tightly.
“Who did dis dreadful thing to you? I’ll stab their ass fo’ sure!”
“I dunno,” I replied, drying up my tears.
“Must be dat Amelia girl.” she growled, “come, sistuh, let’s go home.”
LeShay led me down the stairs.
“Wait, I forgot my bag,” I stopped, “it’s still inside the bathroom. You go ahead, I’ll catch up later.”
I was shocked to see someone to see standing at the balcony near the bathrooom door.
“You!” I hissed.
“Yes, it’s me, darling,” Amelia threw a smirk, “It’s been a long time since we haven’t talk. Am I right, sweetheart?”
“Cut that sass talk. You did this to me, huh? I ain’t no fool!” I spat at her face with rage and humiliation.
She didn’t flinch a bit.
“Yeah, so what?” Amelia raised her chin.
“You got no rights to be here, black doll. I don’t care what the Supreme Court says about the equality you deserve. They can make rules as much as they like but I won’t bow down to their ludicrous desegregation ideas—ever! Go somewhere else to a school that belongs to your niggers and dogs. You’ll always be different here forever, darling. Know that people who take others for granted are not welcomed in the campus.”
“I don’t give a damn about what you say,” I gritted my teeth, “yo’ worth nothin’ if you keep goin’ on like this. Call me whatever that pleases your white ass, bitch—but I ain’t never once a thief!”
Amelia snickered.
“Ain’t never once a thief! Then explain how you’ve taken away my parents from me!” she demanded, “I am their daughter! I deserve their time and affection. You know what? I’ve tried everything but they don’t love me as much as they love you. ‘Give this bread to Alicia’ or ‘Alicia is also our girl’ they would say.”
Her eyes were now red and wild-eyed.
“Do they see me? Do they!?” she screamed, “I guess they only have eyes for a black girl—no more than a mere servant and a slave!”
A slap landed on her face.
Amelia was stunned; she fell silent for a moment. She carefully brought her fingers to caress her wet, red cheek and then turned to look at me in disbelief.
I took a step back, lifting up my palms just to see them in horror. What have I done?
“You’re right,” she whispered, “I’m not worthy of anything.”
Amelia took several steps backwards. She gave me one last look and jumped off the building.
“AMELIA!!” I shrieked, running for the balcony railings.
It was all a blur. Her slender figure was speeding down the roof in a millisecond. There were no vines or branches rippling down the walls—nothing to hold on to. I thrusted myself forward and seized her wrist, my black fingers digging into her delicate, white hand.
“Are you outta yo’ mind!?” I yelled at her.
“Don’t touch me, nigger! Let me go!” Amelia spat at me from below, trying to wriggle her hand out of my grasp.
Her legs were thrashing wildly in the air.
“Be still!”
“Shit, I won’t! Just let me die on my own!”
“Sistuh, sistuh!”
“LeShay! Come heah—gimme a hand! Hurry!”
LeShay was frantic, but quickly obeyed my command.
“Grab her wrist and pull her up on the count of three, you hear me?”
She nodded, panicking.
“Heah we go—one, two, three!”
Both of us dragged her up back into the balcony. The three of us collapsed onto the floor, breathless. Cold sweat trickled down my forehead, my heart still thumping against the ribcage.
Amelia broke into a loud sob, “You should’ve let me go, bitches! Now you’ve ruined everything!”
I ignored her rants. I approached her, taking a closer look at the wound on her legs.
“Your legs are bleeding—”
“Don’t touch me, nigger!” she pushed me away harshly, “I’m sick of you. You’ve done enough to ruin my life!”
She stood up to her feet, looking miserable. Her hair was undone and messy, mascarra running down her cheeks.
A living corpse. Momma’s words rung in my ears. Now I get what she means. Unforgiveness eats one alive slowly—by infiltrating their blood, gnawing on their bones and nibbling on their heart until it rots. One living proof standing in front of me is enough to show me the horrors of this savagery.
“Isn’t yo’ own life enough fo’ you?” I shook my head, “Aren’t you worn out, Amelia? Aren’t you?”
She said nothing in return.
“I forgive you, Amelia Huntingdon,” I finally whispered.
Her fiery eyes drilled into mine with rage.
“I don’t need your forgiveness,” she hissed.
And with that, she walked away in her tattered dress.
To claim one’s life back is to break free from his own hatred.
***
There were no sue nor charges placed upon me and LeShay after the incident. I thought that Amelia would bring us to the court with the accusation that 2 black girls tried to push the mayor’s daughter from the 3rd floor. But, no—what I’ve predicted didn’t happen. When I met her, she would only brush past me as if I didn’t exist or avoid me in the hallways.
Sometimes Amelia’s gang would also pass my cafetaria table. The girls would start taunting us from their backs as usual but were cut short by Amelia. “Leave those black bitches alone. Let them be,” she once said. Then, they stopped giving us racist remarks and went their own way. Demetrius would glance at them and me, raising his eyebrows and afterwards went back to his food.
No one spoke about the incident. LeShay and I never talked about it anymore. Neither gossips nor rumors about it were heard from the white people. What happened on that day remained on that day, and I felt alive—no more a living corpse nor slave to unforgiveness.
-EDK-
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