Bittersweet Excerpt!!

Bittersweet: The Diary of Brandy Morgan

- written by Leslie Lee Sanders

- Excerpt -

Almost every night Brandy spotted a jack rabbit or two running across the street from house to house, grazing on the fresh grass the owners usually kept watered and trimmed. The rabbits were beautiful little creatures, next to a mythical unicorn, because they’re so gentle-looking and harmless. Who would ever want to harm a jack rabbit? Jack rabbits and all rabbits for that matter were special to Brandy. And besides the unicorn, rabbits were Brandy’s favorite animal. They were gentle, harmless, free little bundles of fur.

Brandy walked to the edge of the sidewalk and peered down the street. She looked toward the direction of the grocery store to see if she could see her mother walking. She looked, but the only thing she spotted far down the road was a car coming in her direction. The car was headed in her direction quickly, because within seconds it was only yards away from her. It slowed down and appeared to be stopping at her house. The car was a new Ferrari, black or dark blue with dark tinted windows. Brandy didn’t recognize the car, but maybe it was a kind friend that had offered to drop her mother off at home with her tons of groceries.

Or maybe not.

As soon as the car pulled up in front of her it stopped. Brandy stood and waited for whoever to come out, or roll down their window. Brandy walked closer to the car. She strained to look at whoever was in the car through the dark tint on the windows. Suddenly, the window rolled down and a cup filled with a liquid-like substance was thrown into her face. The sound of many people laughing filled the car, even a racial slur was heard through the laughter, and the car sped away leaving the sound of squealing tires to reverberate in her ears.

Brandy was completely soaked in this warm liquid that smelled strongly like . . . urine!

Brandy couldn’t believe it. Quickly, she ran inside to shower and get clean. Who were those people, and why would they do such a thing? For laughs? Brandy couldn’t believe it. If they hated her so much for being who she was, why was it so hard for them to just stay away and leave her alone? It was like they had to show her how much they despised her; hated her. It wasn’t good enough just to keep their views and their hands to themselves, and in this case, to keep their urine where it belonged.

Brandy took a shower, and after cleaning herself she walked into the kitchen to find her mother putting away groceries.

“Brandy, girl, where have you been?” her mother asked. “I could have used some help with these groceries, you know.” Brandy immediately began helping her mother put the food away. Celeste took a look at Brandy and asked, “What’s wrong with you, child?”

“Nothing, Mama,” Brandy said, avoiding eye contact.

Celeste was a short, full-figured woman. She looked very young to be forty-five years old, and she was also very perceptual. She knew when something was wrong with one of her children, especially Brandy. Building a relationship with her daughter for over seventeen years made it easy to spot tension in her daughter from a mile away.

“Now, child,” Celeste said, putting her hands on her hips. “I know when something is upsetting my baby.” Celeste gave her a stern look. The look that said, “Don’t try to fool me.”

“Mama, I’m not a baby.”

“Well, tell me what’s wrong, girl. What happened?”

Brandy gave up. Still putting the groceries away she explained, “A car full of people pulled up in front of the house just about thirty minutes ago and threw a cup of urine on me.”

“What did you just say?”

“You heard me, Mama.”

Celeste walked over to Brandy and stood in front of her. “Now, are theses a bunch of your school friends that did this?”

“No, Mama. They’re no friends of mine.”

“Are these kids that go to your school?” Celeste rephrased her question.

“I don’t know, maybe. They seemed to be about my age, and there’s only one school around here.”

“I bet they’re those thug boys that hang out on that street corner selling dope,” Celeste thought.

“No, Mama. Those boys are black and they don’t own a car like this one. This car was a nice black or dark blue Ferrari with dark tinted windows, and I heard a girl yell racist obscenities at me so it wasn’t just boys.”

“So, they were white and rich?” Celeste asked, not really waiting on an answer. “Those blue-eye devils. Those spoiled, rotten-”

“No, Mama. Don’t do that,” Brandy interrupted. “That’s not fair, Mama, to call them those names.”

“Well, what would you like, girl? They don’t have the decency to keep those devilish words off of their tongue. Why would you call them by any other name?” Celeste asked with anger in her tone.

“Because, I’m not like them. I don’t want to be like them, and I don’t want you to be like them.”

Celeste shook her head, threw her hands up in the air, and walked out of the kitchen mumbling words Brandy couldn’t make out.

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