I begin with:
Senior Brother Author Tatum
My name is Laughter, A.W. Laughter. Welcome to the den. I find the following sentence beautifully written:
Every time I close my eyes I see images of fluttering birds, small black birds flying over grass
fields. I strain to remember the sounds of childhood. My broken and fragmented soul is in deep
need of an autopsy that can only be granted by a willingness to move beyond a generic view. I
ask, what happens when your whole way of life is interrupted.
We have come here to appropriate our language for a common cause. I am the den master, and you, the ten of you, are the den mates.
Post your first chapter here today.
BA2
Black Power: Violent Beginnings
The afternoon day echoed with the loud footsteps of shoes pounding against the pavement. Jordan and Avery rushed through the neighborhood that their school was in. Drenched in sweat, the two turned a corner and ran into a 7-Eleven. A Mexican man stood at a register, smoking. “Can we hide in here, Pedro?” Jordan asked. The man nodded his head in response and the two dove behind a rack covered with out of date chips and pop tarts. Just then, six boys in a huddle busted in the store. One stepped out of the huddle. He was wearing a black leather jacket with navy blue jeans, white Nikes, and a black Yankees hat. The boy took his hat off revealing his face. He was African-American with blue contacts. He looked completely normal except for a long scar that ran down the left side of his face. His voice was deep and frightening. “Those punks come up in here, Pedro?” The boy demanded. Pedro smirked. “Just me an’ my boy,” he responded. Pedro groaned and held up a double barreled shotgun, the handle custom with pictures of ladies in bikinis. The boy chuckled darkly, motioned his hand, and he and his crew walked out going the way they came from. When they were gone, Jordan and Avery crawled out of their hiding place and leaned against the register Pedro was that. “Thanks, Pedro,” the boys said in unison. Before Pedro could respond, they ran out of the store.
On their way home, Avery shouldered his book bag and glared at Jordan. “What?” Jordan exclaimed. “You know what!” Avery said jabbing his finger into his brother’s chest. “We almost got jumped!” Jordan laughed. “Not with me around,” he said. Avery grew angrier. “You think you’re so tough, you think you can handle everybody, don’t you?” “Just because you’re so muscular?” It was true, Jordan was muscular. He wore a tight blue t-shirt to show it too. Also, Jordan wore light blue jeans with blue and white Adidas. On the other hand, Avery wasn’t as muscular as his brother. He had rimless glasses. He had on a green hoody unzipped revealing a white t-shirt with a gun on it. The gun was in the middle of a red circle with a line going straight through it. Avery’s black Levi’s were covered in dirt and so were his white And1s. Jordan laughed again. “Jamal isn’t that tough.”
“But he has a gun.”
“So?”
“He can shoot you.”
“Man that thing ain’t loaded,” Jordan snorted. “He’s a church boy, sweatin' in his $9.99 suit act’ a fool, “praisin' the lord” on Sundays.”
“What’s your point?” Avery asked. You still shouldn’t have done what you did.”
Jordan was going to say something, but Avery cut him off. “We have to get in the house,” Avery said grimly. So the two brothers jogged up to the big house which was their home.
BA 10
My Tears Weapon
She fiddle with her keys, nervously attempting to open the door for us to enter her quarters and cap off our evening. I had her wrapped in my charm like a baby in a blanket. I deceived her with every word that I uttered since we first met. I cradled her and rocked her better judgment to sleep. She was in a reverie of my bewildering charm. My excitement overwhelmed my soul. My soul, upon entering the apartment, turned dark crimson. She looked back at me as she cracked open the door as if to say come in without a word. Her undergarments were calling to me even though their lips were shut and sealed. I answered back to her silent invitation by entering the corridor. I slid off my shoes on the rosy mat filled with her high heels. She finally spoke out, her voice nervous, “This way.” I followed her down the endless hallway holding to her fingertips to guide my way. She had no idea what I had in store for her.
“Sit over there?” she suggested to me.
I sat.
“Wine?”
I nodded arrogantly.
She walked to the kitchen so innocently. No swishing of her petite hips. No arch in her slender back. All it was, was a walk. But the innocence in her walk further revealed to me the innocence in her mind and her spirit. Oh yes, this would be easy. Her kitchen was immense. Cherry cupboards, marble counter tops, a stainless steel double sink to complement the refrigerator. She has it all, now I just have to take her from it. She returned to the cream couch and accompanied me. She sat fourteen inches away and handed me the crystal wine glass filled half way with white 1909 wine. I started the conversation, breaking the awkward silence she had created.
“You have a nice home,” I complimented her with a devilish grin. We talked for about an hour. I made her laugh until her stomach was in knots and she was forced to cry. She was having a magnificent time and I could tell that she had it set in her mind that this would be her best date ever. I was the only one in the room knowing the end to this illusory evening. She asked me if was I hungry.
“Yes,” I replied.
“Do you like red velvet cake?”
“My favorite,” I said with a smirk.
As soon as she turned her naïve hips and eyes away I struck her in the back her head with my wine glass. She fell to the floor in a rush. She had a scarlet gash right above her temple. I reached down and flipped her over and smacked and punched her with all my built up rage from this naïve engagement. She started to bleed from her lip and nose. She floated in and out of consciousness, while her eyes were steadily getting weary. I held her up and turned her away from my face. I held her arms to her side and took her to the bedroom as she struggled to resist me. As we entered the room, I kissed her tenderly on her neck. I threw her to the bed; my body soon followed. I looked at her with so much wrath and hate for what she was. “Don’t make a sound.” Her eyes were stunned because of the fear I struck in her. I ripped off her white blouse and pulled off her mid-length blue skirt. Her body was beautiful and awe-inspiring to view. I stared at her and basked in her glory. I undid her creamy bra and slid down her panty hose. I couldn’t wait to suck on her soft and warm breast.
She started to moan. I clouted her. She shrieked in pain. I crossed the thresholded and enjoyed her screams from my violation of her. She stared to weep and her tears matched the tears of my face. I wept from the sight of her anguish. These painless tears I suffered in my endeavor to diminish, her I enjoyed.
BA 12
Planet Chicago (Rough Draft)
“Hey kid, you serious with this?” A tall Italian man about 6’3 with a dark blue suit and a red tie on grumbled to the boy sitting outside a Gallery37 building on Randolph and Wabash in a chair with a canvas in front of him. “This aint New York ya know.”
“Yeah, I’m serious,” replied Andrew. "You interested?”
“Try to keep it under fifteen minutes kid, I got places to be.”
“Sure just sit down, portrait or caricature?”
“Eh? Both, let’s see what you got.”
“Sure.”
The man sat down on the stool in front of the canvas and Andrew flipped open his 11x14 bienfang sketch notebook. Andrew glanced up at the man once, then twice, three minutes passed and Andrew flipped to the next page in the book.
“H-hey! What are you doing kid, I’m not going to pay you for half-assed garbage!” the Italian man complained.
“Yeah, I know.”
Andrew put on his headphones and began to listen to Kid Cudi.He glanced up once at the man and never looked at him again. Three minutes passed. Andrew flipped back to the first page and ripped both out of the notebook.
“Here,” Andrew said as he handed the papers to the man.
The man stood up and snatched the papers disappointedly and looked down at them. His jaw dropped in awe.
“T-this is incredible,” he stammered, “How did you do this, and so quickly?”
Andrew stared up with apathetic eyes having experienced this same scene at least six times today.
“Ten dollars for the portrait, five for the caricature. that’ll be fifteen dollars sir.”
“Fifteen dollars for skill of this level and in mere minutes? You’re crazy!” the man exclaimed.
Andrew’s eyes flickered with confusion for just a moment then narrowed dangerously.
“Pay the amount asked…” “I'll not pay fifteen dollars for this work,” The man scoffed.
Andrew stood up to his full 5’11 height and removed his skull candy headphones from atop his head.
“Ill pay you fifty - thirty for the portrait and twenty for the caricature.”
Andrew looked the man square in the eyes.
“Why?” he asked skeptically.
“Because, you shouldn’t be out here selling such refined services for such a small penance, if it interests you I own a hotel that serves as a tourist attraction here in Chicago.”
The man reached into his suit jacket's inner pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper and scribbled some information on it.
“That’s the address and directions from this spot and actually it seems like you should be in gallery37 instead of outside of it, maybe I can help with that. In the mean time…”
The man reached into his pants pocket and pulled out two twenties and a ten-dollar bill and handed it to Andrew. “Thank you for your services.”
Andrew took the money and stuffed it in his torn jean pocket lost in thought about the events that occurred.
“No problem,” he whispered and the man walked off into the camouflaged landscape of downtown Chicago. Andrew looked at the sheet of paper with the information on it, folded it and stuffed that into the pocket of his torn jeans as well.
“Another day, another dollar,” he said to himself as he gathered his things and headed home to his dingy one room apartment.
BA 1
I Hate You
I am D’mari, and I hate school! I hate them phony kids! I hate them fake teachers always trying too hate on my swagga and I hate that the food they be trying to feed us in the cafeteria. Today our English teacher gave us this bogus poem by Gwendolyn Brooks. It was called We Real Cool. it was like this:
We real cool. We
Left school.
We lurk late. We
Strike straight. We
Sing sin. We
Thin gin. We
Jazz June. We
Die soon.
I just thought to myself who does she really think she is, telling us we gone die if we do this. I wanted to call her a white supremacists right there but I promised my moms I would stay out of trouble since she just got a third job. She's been stressed lately.
BA 3
If for Just One Night
Chapter 1- ?Serenity?
“Okay. Please stop! Oh my gosh it's getting late look at the time. I really think you need to leave,” Amiya says. “Girl, stop playing with me. You know you want it just as bad as I do,” Exzante replies. “Yeah, you know I do. But baby, I told you I'm not ready to take it there yet,” Amiya exclaims. “A'ight, boo, I understand. Dang. Sometimes I wonder why I love you so much. I guess I love me some white girl,” he lovingly replies while kissing Amiya. She then puts an end to this madness by saying , “Exzante Cook, you need to go! I already told you. And my mom gets off at 11:00 p.m. It's nearly 12:00. Bye babes.” “Bye sweetie cake. Really I need you to be ready for this like tomorrow. A'ight?” Exzante dryly responds. She just kisses him goodnight, and he is on his way.
A straight A+ student, and charming person, Exzante has come to face a huge dilemma. He is a 17 year old African American boy, looking for love in the right places. All while making the wrong decisions. He is madly in love with Amiya Brook. She is beautiful, very intelligent, very optimistic, caring, and a great cheerleader captain. Although all his friends tease him because she is “white” he loves her still. Amiya is white, 5.7 in height, kind of thick, (plenty of meat on her bones) and is fine as heck. Exzante Cook; 6.1 in height, star football and wrestling player, 10th in class ranking, He is very popular, and a very outspoken person. This is where his issues arise. He is in love, with another girl; Mc’kayla Monroe also known as M.
It was a late summer day, when they first met. It was at football camp, Exzante was very parched. So he walked over to the drink stand to get some water. All the girls went wild, pushing and shoving, all trying to get to the water first, to be able to give him his water. It was crazy, like wild animals over a fresh piece of raw meat. While all this was going on, it was one girl who would not be taken so easily. Her name was Amiya Brook. She had a nice body, full round lips, and a behind that was out of this world. Instantly he thought to him self (she is defiantly going to be the one.)
BA14
“Aaaaa, stop, get off him, it don’t take all of y’all,” a young lady’s voice echoed down the street as she yelled to try to get some guys off him. This wasn’t anything new for me, her either if she’s from around here I thought as I continued about my business.
“Dis shit don’t make no sense," she proceeded. I bet he would whoop all y’all ass one on one.” When she made that statement I knew she was a native to this more than corrupt hood we dwell within.
“Dis nigga shouldn’t talk like he tough den,” one of the about fifteen boys said as his foot landed on the slim boy's head, neck or shoulder area again.
“Dat’s what dis is about - talking, people can't talk these days?”
“Nah, now keep it moving broad 'fore talking get you hurt.” Just then I paused to see what would happen next.
“Yeah a'ight dis ain’t what you want lil, boy but imma gone head and walk off. You a'ight?” she asked helping the boy up from the ground.
“Yeah, you decent,” she said. His face was not badly bruised at all from where I was standing taking that so many guys were on him. The both of them started to walk in my direction and I slowed down gently so they wouldn’t notice. I wanted to hear what they might talk about, but they didn’t say anything. The female just walked alongside of the young man holding her arm around him. They continued walking in the same direction as I did but they were still silent. I came to the bus stop and so did they. I got on the bus still wanting to hear the boy’s reasoning for those young thugs jumping him. I waited to see if the lady would ask him any questions; For a while, she didn’t. Although the bus was crowded and kind of loud it seemed to be silent even if just for the time of me waiting for conversation between the two. Finally, she got up the confidence which I couldn’t build up fast enough.
“So why were they jumping you young man? Why they pick you?” She double questioned the boy.
“It ain’t nothing,” he answered reluctantly.
“You can tell me, I want to help.”
“Dey just hating man it ain’t nothing.”
“So you the guy those dudes were jumping on?" I suddenly asked rhetorically.
“Yeah dat was me, dey ain’t do shit though I’m a'ight.
“Yeah you good, you wouldn’t be able to say you got jumped looking at your face.” I said trying to give him back some of the pride that was taken from him by answering questions he didn’t want to, but it was true as he had one truly visible scar across his jaw and a small cut in the corner of his lip. Otherwise he looked perfectly fine which made me laugh on the inside.
“You good though, don’t worry about it now. Dey look silly cause you barley look bruised and it was all of them on you.”
“What dey hating for?” The lady turned to him and asked when I finished talking.”
The boy hesitated to respond as the bus approached my stop. I wanted hear his answer badly just to see if it was the reason I somehow knew, but I exited the bus. I thought to myself that I’ll see him again.
“Watch yourself,” I yelled back onto the bus.
BA 8
LoveSick
Officer Rodger Fredrickson
Chicago Police Department 11th District
June 25, 2010 3:11am
Silence ran rampant over West Harrison Street. Black bags floated along the curb, as vagrants loitered without a purpose. The daunting red bricked building stood as a constant reminder of order. Police cars filled the parking lot, for a Friday morning, it was usual, but the eerie feeling of something terribly eminent cast over the town.
“Oi! Fredrickson, we’ve got a big case here!” exclaimed McLaughlan, his heavy Irish brogue and 6’ 5” figure, and spiky, burgundy color hair was intimidating nonetheless, almost perfect for his job. The pearl white offline lined with desks and file cabinets looked boring. Only 5 people sat at the desks, and all were officers.
“Fax it over McLaughlan,”
The fax machine hummed and buzzed until several pieces of paper filled the tray.
BA 9
Chapter 1: De' Andre Lopez (D.S.R)
Ding! Ding! Ding! Dismiss. Sometimes I wish if I left my phone on vibrate I would still wake up but in a peaceful way. The sun found a way into my bedroom and right into my eyes. I groaned as I realized I was no longer in my dazed state of mind that most human beings would call 'sleep'. I call it D.A.Z.E: Dizzy Absentminded Zoo-like Events. That's what I call it at least.
"Hey dude you got to get up if you want to put this work in real quick."
"Hold on, give me a second Haze."
I sat up on the side of my bed and rubbed my eyes. I reached up to my head and scratched my D.U.R.I.N.G: Dumb Unusual Riled-up Insufficient Nappy God-given hair. I looked at my night stand to check the time on my charging iPhone. It was 4:23 a.m.
"Haze, are you kidding me bruh? You woke me up at 4 a.m. to put in work that could be done way easier after school?"
"Chill man, I been up since 1 making you this dope beat. You got to put in the hard work as an artist the way I put in the hard work as a producer. You feel me?"
"Work smarter, not harder." I leaned back on my bed getting ready to go back into my D.A.Z.E. I was closing my eyes. Closing. Closing.
"Do what you have to do now so you can do what you want to do later."
Awake. I sat up again in my bed and looked at Haze. He was smirking. Since I was clearly defeated I slowly climbed out my bed and onto the floor where I immediately slipped into my slippers. Haze walked out of my doorway as I followed behind him. Down into our basement. We call it the lab. I call it work. He calls it his personal heaven. He lays down the canvas. I paint him a picture. It's the special and spiritual bond between producer and rapper.
BA 11
Sitting on his dirty yellow sofa with orange daisies David takes another long drag from his cigarette. Flipping through the channels he sees an infomercial for a wallet made out of sandpaper and how it is supposed to deter criminals from pick pocketing you.
“If I saw some dude with a sandpaper wallet I would picket pocket him just for being stupid for thinking they actually work.” With a final grunt he began his journey for an interesting TV show on his six channels two of which were in Spanish. Sitting on the top of the kitchen counter top his cat watches him mummer angrily like it has for the last two days. This is because the cat is dead but David is to lazy to notice the now rotting corpse laying on his kitchen counter top. He could hear the volume of his next door neighbors TV through the thin drywall that separated his living from Gertrude’s living room a foot away. The whole in his wall from coming home drunk one night and drop kicking a fly on the wall did not help him to ignore the weather forecast Gertrude was listening to either. Finally ending his TV journey via remote Dave decides to watch Cheaters. He sees a woman coming at her husband from behind with a tight open hand. Dave begins to eat his bowl of Cheerio’s he prepared half an hour ago. “OOOHH!” he screams as he watches a woman slap her unsuspecting husband in the back of the head. He watches closely while he wipes the droplet of milk off his bottom lip. “She slapped that goofy smile right off his face!” he chuckles. “At least when my wife found out I was cheating I was ready.” With a few more quiet laughs Dave takes another gulp of his soggy Cheerios. Half an hour later the show finishes and Dave stares at the large load of wrinkled dirty laundry sleeping in the corner of his small apartment. Dave slowly gets up places his half empty bowl next to his cat and grabs a big bag of quarters from the top of his refrigerator. He grabs an empty laundry basket shoves his load of heavy clothes in and walks out of his apartment. Across the street he sees a brightly lit business with a big bold red sign that says Cleaners. Placing his basket on an open table he sees a woman ten years younger than him in her thirties folding her undergarments. Licking his lips he picks up his basket flips it upside down and throws the basket to the floor. It fails to catch her attention. He throws his clothes into a washing machine remembering he still had his wedding ring on. With a few twists and turns it slips right off. As he shoves his quarters in to the machine he sees her drop a black pair of underwear on the ground. With out any noise he goes over kneels down and picks them up with one finger. “These wouldn’t happen to belong to you?” Dave says twirling them on one finger. “Ummm yes they are.” says the large heavy set woman with an afro with a scared look on her face.
BA 13
Triple Threat
Chapter One
“
“Ya know I used to like you like you last week” her black hair shaking as she talks. After hearing the shocking information me and my friend Scout laugh like crazy my navy blue Levi skinny’s making me trip into my locker, but we keep laughing. In my mind I think that we both probably look like the joker or something.
“What’s so funny huh?”
It’s just that well I used to like you a week ago.” I say while we all slowly walk downstairs toward the busses
“What, why didn’t you tell me?”
“Well you never told me,” I say trying to be serious but I still have a smirk on my face from laughing so hard.
“Well you should have asked me first you idiot” She says harshly but her brown eyes show a kindness and reveal the fact that she never stopped liking me. In anger and surprise the thirteen year old Cuban girl stomps off her black hair swaying on the back of her sunshine colored dress. Even though she is probably crazy mad at me she’ll forget about it and begin liking me again by tomorrow. I wave goodbye to her once she reaches the bus and receive a middle finger in return. “I’ll miss you too Zoe” I reply which sets me and scout up for another laugh.
As I reach the yellow and black bus that I have to ride almost every day of school Scout asks for the hundredth time,
“Dude wanna hang out today?”
“Aint gonna happen bro you know that my parents are super strict about my safety, I probably won’t be able to hang out until next year”
“Crap, well see you later dude”
“Peace out”
As I walk onto the bus I decide to sit with my friends Leah, Brianna and their group of girls, instead of with my good friend Nikolaj and this new eighth grader named Tina. As I sit down I take off my blue and black hoodie to reveal my black Ed Hardy T-Shirt.
“Out my seat Calvin,” Zoe replies before I can even say what’s up
“Umm I need to sit hear I want Brianna across from me cause we need to talk”
“Whatever,” She replies, I’m kind of shocked I mean usually she would have tried to throw me out the seat or at least yell at me until the bus driver finally tells her to shut up. She takes the seat behind me and begins to talk to Olivia, a white girl that is really nice and kind of thinks off herself as the mom of the bus. When Brianna finally shows up I say robotically “You sit here across from me now.” Instantly she sits down straightening her tight sky blue shirt and yellow skinny jeans her tan skin is veiled by her brown hair.
“What’s up Calvin?”
“Nuthin much, just need to talk to you about well girls”
“You came to the right place, what advice do you need” Brianna replies trying to impersonate Dr.Phil.
“Well theirs this girl that I like and she said that she liked me and acts like she still does, but I’m not sure if she really does like me.” I say in a nice but also nervous tone. “I mean what’s wrong with me I like a girl and she likes me but I don’t want to take a risk and get let down.”
“Well just have someone who she wouldn’t expect ask her for you if she likes you.”
“Oh well then, I never really thought of that. Thanks Bri I guess” I reply nervously because even though Brianna has liked and dated lots of boys she has also been rejected lots of times.
As we reach my bus stop I stand up and give hugs to Tina, Brianna and Olivia which I do everyday and kind of have to if I don’t want to have every girl on the bus start trying to kill me.
As I walk to my house located on Marquette and Ingleside in the south side of Chicago, I think about how many great things I’ve missed out on because I can’t stay after school. How may times my friends have tried to invite me to a party or to go to the water tower but I was unable to because my parents won’t let me stay downtown without an adult that they know and trust. I shrug my shoulders as I approach giant brick house that is meant to be an apartment in the basement and a five family house in the top, but it now holds a five number family including our dog, I know that life’s gonna change tomorrow.
She fiddle with her keys, nervously attempting to open the door for us to enter her quarters and cap off our evening. I had her wrapped in my charm like a baby in a blanket. I deceived her with every word that I uttered since we first met. I cradled her and rocked her better judgment to sleep. She was in a reverie of my bewildering charm. My excitement overwhelmed my soul. My soul, upon entering the apartment, turned dark crimson. She looked back at me as she cracked open the door as if to say come in without a word. Her undergarments were calling to me even though their lips were shut and sealed. I answered back to her silent invitation by entering the corridor. I slid off my shoes on the rosy mat filled with her high heels. She finally spoke out, her voice nervous, “This way.” I followed her down the endless hallway holding to her fingertips to guide my way. She had no idea what I had in store for her.
“Sit over there?” she suggested to me.
I sat.
“Wine?”
I nodded arrogantly.
She walked to the kitchen so innocently. No swishing of her petite hips. No arch in her slender back. All it was, was a walk. But the innocence in her walk further revealed to me the innocence in her mind and her spirit. Oh yes, this would be easy. Her kitchen was immense. Cherry cupboards, marble counter tops, a stainless steel double sink to complement the refrigerator. She has it all, now I just have to take her from it. She returned to the cream couch and accompanied me. She sat fourteen inches away and handed me the crystal wine glass filled half way with white 1909 wine. I started the conversation, breaking the awkward silence she had created.
“You have a nice home,” I complimented her with a devilish grin. We talked for about an hour. I made her laugh until her stomach was in knots and she was forced to cry. She was having a magnificent time and I could tell that she had it set in her mind that this would be her best date ever. I was the only one in the room knowing the end to this illusory evening. She asked me if was I hungry.
“Yes,” I replied.
“Do you like red velvet cake?”
“My favorite,” I said with a smirk.
As soon as she turned her naïve hips and eyes away I struck her in the back her head with my wine glass. She fell to the floor in a rush. She had a scarlet gash right above her temple. I reached down and flipped her over and smacked and punched her with all my built up rage from this naïve engagement. She started to bleed from her lip and nose. She floated in and out of consciousness, while her eyes were steadily getting weary. I held her up and turned her away from my face. I held her arms to her side and took her to the bedroom as she struggled to resist me. As we entered the room, I kissed her tenderly on her neck. I threw her to the bed; my body soon followed. I looked at her with so much wrath and hate for what she was. “Don’t make a sound.” Her eyes were stunned because of the fear I struck in her. I ripped off her white blouse and pulled off her mid-length blue skirt. Her body was beautiful and awe-inspiring to view. I stared at her and basked in her glory. I undid her creamy bra and slid down her panty hose. I couldn’t wait to suck on her soft and warm breast.
She started to moan. I clouted her. She shrieked in pain. I crossed the thresholded and enjoyed her screams from my violation of her. She stared to weep and her tears matched the tears of my face. I wept from the sight of her anguish. These painless tears I suffered in my endeavor to diminish, her I enjoyed.
BA 12
Planet Chicago (Rough Draft)
“Hey kid, you serious with this?” A tall Italian man about 6’3 with a dark blue suit and a red tie on grumbled to the boy sitting outside a Gallery37 building on Randolph and Wabash in a chair with a canvas in front of him. “This aint New York ya know.”
“Yeah, I’m serious,” replied Andrew. "You interested?”
“Try to keep it under fifteen minutes kid, I got places to be.”
“Sure just sit down, portrait or caricature?”
“Eh? Both, let’s see what you got.”
“Sure.”
The man sat down on the stool in front of the canvas and Andrew flipped open his 11x14 bienfang sketch notebook. Andrew glanced up at the man once, then twice, three minutes passed and Andrew flipped to the next page in the book.
“H-hey! What are you doing kid, I’m not going to pay you for half-assed garbage!” the Italian man complained.
“Yeah, I know.”
Andrew put on his headphones and began to listen to Kid Cudi.He glanced up once at the man and never looked at him again. Three minutes passed. Andrew flipped back to the first page and ripped both out of the notebook.
“Here,” Andrew said as he handed the papers to the man.
The man stood up and snatched the papers disappointedly and looked down at them. His jaw dropped in awe.
“T-this is incredible,” he stammered, “How did you do this, and so quickly?”
Andrew stared up with apathetic eyes having experienced this same scene at least six times today.
“Ten dollars for the portrait, five for the caricature. that’ll be fifteen dollars sir.”
“Fifteen dollars for skill of this level and in mere minutes? You’re crazy!” the man exclaimed.
Andrew’s eyes flickered with confusion for just a moment then narrowed dangerously.
“Pay the amount asked…” “I'll not pay fifteen dollars for this work,” The man scoffed.
Andrew stood up to his full 5’11 height and removed his skull candy headphones from atop his head.
“Ill pay you fifty - thirty for the portrait and twenty for the caricature.”
Andrew looked the man square in the eyes.
“Why?” he asked skeptically.
“Because, you shouldn’t be out here selling such refined services for such a small penance, if it interests you I own a hotel that serves as a tourist attraction here in Chicago.”
The man reached into his suit jacket's inner pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper and scribbled some information on it.
“That’s the address and directions from this spot and actually it seems like you should be in gallery37 instead of outside of it, maybe I can help with that. In the mean time…”
The man reached into his pants pocket and pulled out two twenties and a ten-dollar bill and handed it to Andrew. “Thank you for your services.”
Andrew took the money and stuffed it in his torn jean pocket lost in thought about the events that occurred.
“No problem,” he whispered and the man walked off into the camouflaged landscape of downtown Chicago. Andrew looked at the sheet of paper with the information on it, folded it and stuffed that into the pocket of his torn jeans as well.
“Another day, another dollar,” he said to himself as he gathered his things and headed home to his dingy one room apartment.
BA 1
I Hate You
I am D’mari, and I hate school! I hate them phony kids! I hate them fake teachers always trying too hate on my swagga and I hate that the food they be trying to feed us in the cafeteria. Today our English teacher gave us this bogus poem by Gwendolyn Brooks. It was called We Real Cool. it was like this:
We real cool. We
Left school.
We lurk late. We
Strike straight. We
Sing sin. We
Thin gin. We
Jazz June. We
Die soon.
I just thought to myself who does she really think she is, telling us we gone die if we do this. I wanted to call her a white supremacists right there but I promised my moms I would stay out of trouble since she just got a third job. She's been stressed lately.
BA 3
If for Just One Night
Chapter 1- ?Serenity?
“Okay. Please stop! Oh my gosh it's getting late look at the time. I really think you need to leave,” Amiya says. “Girl, stop playing with me. You know you want it just as bad as I do,” Exzante replies. “Yeah, you know I do. But baby, I told you I'm not ready to take it there yet,” Amiya exclaims. “A'ight, boo, I understand. Dang. Sometimes I wonder why I love you so much. I guess I love me some white girl,” he lovingly replies while kissing Amiya. She then puts an end to this madness by saying , “Exzante Cook, you need to go! I already told you. And my mom gets off at 11:00 p.m. It's nearly 12:00. Bye babes.” “Bye sweetie cake. Really I need you to be ready for this like tomorrow. A'ight?” Exzante dryly responds. She just kisses him goodnight, and he is on his way.
A straight A+ student, and charming person, Exzante has come to face a huge dilemma. He is a 17 year old African American boy, looking for love in the right places. All while making the wrong decisions. He is madly in love with Amiya Brook. She is beautiful, very intelligent, very optimistic, caring, and a great cheerleader captain. Although all his friends tease him because she is “white” he loves her still. Amiya is white, 5.7 in height, kind of thick, (plenty of meat on her bones) and is fine as heck. Exzante Cook; 6.1 in height, star football and wrestling player, 10th in class ranking, He is very popular, and a very outspoken person. This is where his issues arise. He is in love, with another girl; Mc’kayla Monroe also known as M.
It was a late summer day, when they first met. It was at football camp, Exzante was very parched. So he walked over to the drink stand to get some water. All the girls went wild, pushing and shoving, all trying to get to the water first, to be able to give him his water. It was crazy, like wild animals over a fresh piece of raw meat. While all this was going on, it was one girl who would not be taken so easily. Her name was Amiya Brook. She had a nice body, full round lips, and a behind that was out of this world. Instantly he thought to him self (she is defiantly going to be the one.)
BA14
“Aaaaa, stop, get off him, it don’t take all of y’all,” a young lady’s voice echoed down the street as she yelled to try to get some guys off him. This wasn’t anything new for me, her either if she’s from around here I thought as I continued about my business.
“Dis shit don’t make no sense," she proceeded. I bet he would whoop all y’all ass one on one.” When she made that statement I knew she was a native to this more than corrupt hood we dwell within.
“Dis nigga shouldn’t talk like he tough den,” one of the about fifteen boys said as his foot landed on the slim boy's head, neck or shoulder area again.
“Dat’s what dis is about - talking, people can't talk these days?”
“Nah, now keep it moving broad 'fore talking get you hurt.” Just then I paused to see what would happen next.
“Yeah a'ight dis ain’t what you want lil, boy but imma gone head and walk off. You a'ight?” she asked helping the boy up from the ground.
“Yeah, you decent,” she said. His face was not badly bruised at all from where I was standing taking that so many guys were on him. The both of them started to walk in my direction and I slowed down gently so they wouldn’t notice. I wanted to hear what they might talk about, but they didn’t say anything. The female just walked alongside of the young man holding her arm around him. They continued walking in the same direction as I did but they were still silent. I came to the bus stop and so did they. I got on the bus still wanting to hear the boy’s reasoning for those young thugs jumping him. I waited to see if the lady would ask him any questions; For a while, she didn’t. Although the bus was crowded and kind of loud it seemed to be silent even if just for the time of me waiting for conversation between the two. Finally, she got up the confidence which I couldn’t build up fast enough.
“So why were they jumping you young man? Why they pick you?” She double questioned the boy.
“It ain’t nothing,” he answered reluctantly.
“You can tell me, I want to help.”
“Dey just hating man it ain’t nothing.”
“So you the guy those dudes were jumping on?" I suddenly asked rhetorically.
“Yeah dat was me, dey ain’t do shit though I’m a'ight.
“Yeah you good, you wouldn’t be able to say you got jumped looking at your face.” I said trying to give him back some of the pride that was taken from him by answering questions he didn’t want to, but it was true as he had one truly visible scar across his jaw and a small cut in the corner of his lip. Otherwise he looked perfectly fine which made me laugh on the inside.
“You good though, don’t worry about it now. Dey look silly cause you barley look bruised and it was all of them on you.”
“What dey hating for?” The lady turned to him and asked when I finished talking.”
The boy hesitated to respond as the bus approached my stop. I wanted hear his answer badly just to see if it was the reason I somehow knew, but I exited the bus. I thought to myself that I’ll see him again.
“Watch yourself,” I yelled back onto the bus.
BA 8
LoveSick
Officer Rodger Fredrickson
Chicago Police Department 11th District
June 25, 2010 3:11am
Silence ran rampant over West Harrison Street. Black bags floated along the curb, as vagrants loitered without a purpose. The daunting red bricked building stood as a constant reminder of order. Police cars filled the parking lot, for a Friday morning, it was usual, but the eerie feeling of something terribly eminent cast over the town.
“Oi! Fredrickson, we’ve got a big case here!” exclaimed McLaughlan, his heavy Irish brogue and 6’ 5” figure, and spiky, burgundy color hair was intimidating nonetheless, almost perfect for his job. The pearl white offline lined with desks and file cabinets looked boring. Only 5 people sat at the desks, and all were officers.
“Fax it over McLaughlan,”
The fax machine hummed and buzzed until several pieces of paper filled the tray.
BA 9
Chapter 1: De' Andre Lopez (D.S.R)
Ding! Ding! Ding! Dismiss. Sometimes I wish if I left my phone on vibrate I would still wake up but in a peaceful way. The sun found a way into my bedroom and right into my eyes. I groaned as I realized I was no longer in my dazed state of mind that most human beings would call 'sleep'. I call it D.A.Z.E: Dizzy Absentminded Zoo-like Events. That's what I call it at least.
"Hey dude you got to get up if you want to put this work in real quick."
"Hold on, give me a second Haze."
I sat up on the side of my bed and rubbed my eyes. I reached up to my head and scratched my D.U.R.I.N.G: Dumb Unusual Riled-up Insufficient Nappy God-given hair. I looked at my night stand to check the time on my charging iPhone. It was 4:23 a.m.
"Haze, are you kidding me bruh? You woke me up at 4 a.m. to put in work that could be done way easier after school?"
"Chill man, I been up since 1 making you this dope beat. You got to put in the hard work as an artist the way I put in the hard work as a producer. You feel me?"
"Work smarter, not harder." I leaned back on my bed getting ready to go back into my D.A.Z.E. I was closing my eyes. Closing. Closing.
"Do what you have to do now so you can do what you want to do later."
Awake. I sat up again in my bed and looked at Haze. He was smirking. Since I was clearly defeated I slowly climbed out my bed and onto the floor where I immediately slipped into my slippers. Haze walked out of my doorway as I followed behind him. Down into our basement. We call it the lab. I call it work. He calls it his personal heaven. He lays down the canvas. I paint him a picture. It's the special and spiritual bond between producer and rapper.
BA 11
Sitting on his dirty yellow sofa with orange daisies David takes another long drag from his cigarette. Flipping through the channels he sees an infomercial for a wallet made out of sandpaper and how it is supposed to deter criminals from pick pocketing you.
“If I saw some dude with a sandpaper wallet I would picket pocket him just for being stupid for thinking they actually work.” With a final grunt he began his journey for an interesting TV show on his six channels two of which were in Spanish. Sitting on the top of the kitchen counter top his cat watches him mummer angrily like it has for the last two days. This is because the cat is dead but David is to lazy to notice the now rotting corpse laying on his kitchen counter top. He could hear the volume of his next door neighbors TV through the thin drywall that separated his living from Gertrude’s living room a foot away. The whole in his wall from coming home drunk one night and drop kicking a fly on the wall did not help him to ignore the weather forecast Gertrude was listening to either. Finally ending his TV journey via remote Dave decides to watch Cheaters. He sees a woman coming at her husband from behind with a tight open hand. Dave begins to eat his bowl of Cheerio’s he prepared half an hour ago. “OOOHH!” he screams as he watches a woman slap her unsuspecting husband in the back of the head. He watches closely while he wipes the droplet of milk off his bottom lip. “She slapped that goofy smile right off his face!” he chuckles. “At least when my wife found out I was cheating I was ready.” With a few more quiet laughs Dave takes another gulp of his soggy Cheerios. Half an hour later the show finishes and Dave stares at the large load of wrinkled dirty laundry sleeping in the corner of his small apartment. Dave slowly gets up places his half empty bowl next to his cat and grabs a big bag of quarters from the top of his refrigerator. He grabs an empty laundry basket shoves his load of heavy clothes in and walks out of his apartment. Across the street he sees a brightly lit business with a big bold red sign that says Cleaners. Placing his basket on an open table he sees a woman ten years younger than him in her thirties folding her undergarments. Licking his lips he picks up his basket flips it upside down and throws the basket to the floor. It fails to catch her attention. He throws his clothes into a washing machine remembering he still had his wedding ring on. With a few twists and turns it slips right off. As he shoves his quarters in to the machine he sees her drop a black pair of underwear on the ground. With out any noise he goes over kneels down and picks them up with one finger. “These wouldn’t happen to belong to you?” Dave says twirling them on one finger. “Ummm yes they are.” says the large heavy set woman with an afro with a scared look on her face.
BA 13
Triple Threat
Chapter One
“
“Ya know I used to like you like you last week” her black hair shaking as she talks. After hearing the shocking information me and my friend Scout laugh like crazy my navy blue Levi skinny’s making me trip into my locker, but we keep laughing. In my mind I think that we both probably look like the joker or something.
“What’s so funny huh?”
It’s just that well I used to like you a week ago.” I say while we all slowly walk downstairs toward the busses
“What, why didn’t you tell me?”
“Well you never told me,” I say trying to be serious but I still have a smirk on my face from laughing so hard.
“Well you should have asked me first you idiot” She says harshly but her brown eyes show a kindness and reveal the fact that she never stopped liking me. In anger and surprise the thirteen year old Cuban girl stomps off her black hair swaying on the back of her sunshine colored dress. Even though she is probably crazy mad at me she’ll forget about it and begin liking me again by tomorrow. I wave goodbye to her once she reaches the bus and receive a middle finger in return. “I’ll miss you too Zoe” I reply which sets me and scout up for another laugh.
As I reach the yellow and black bus that I have to ride almost every day of school Scout asks for the hundredth time,
“Dude wanna hang out today?”
“Aint gonna happen bro you know that my parents are super strict about my safety, I probably won’t be able to hang out until next year”
“Crap, well see you later dude”
“Peace out”
As I walk onto the bus I decide to sit with my friends Leah, Brianna and their group of girls, instead of with my good friend Nikolaj and this new eighth grader named Tina. As I sit down I take off my blue and black hoodie to reveal my black Ed Hardy T-Shirt.
“Out my seat Calvin,” Zoe replies before I can even say what’s up
“Umm I need to sit hear I want Brianna across from me cause we need to talk”
“Whatever,” She replies, I’m kind of shocked I mean usually she would have tried to throw me out the seat or at least yell at me until the bus driver finally tells her to shut up. She takes the seat behind me and begins to talk to Olivia, a white girl that is really nice and kind of thinks off herself as the mom of the bus. When Brianna finally shows up I say robotically “You sit here across from me now.” Instantly she sits down straightening her tight sky blue shirt and yellow skinny jeans her tan skin is veiled by her brown hair.
“What’s up Calvin?”
“Nuthin much, just need to talk to you about well girls”
“You came to the right place, what advice do you need” Brianna replies trying to impersonate Dr.Phil.
“Well theirs this girl that I like and she said that she liked me and acts like she still does, but I’m not sure if she really does like me.” I say in a nice but also nervous tone. “I mean what’s wrong with me I like a girl and she likes me but I don’t want to take a risk and get let down.”
“Well just have someone who she wouldn’t expect ask her for you if she likes you.”
“Oh well then, I never really thought of that. Thanks Bri I guess” I reply nervously because even though Brianna has liked and dated lots of boys she has also been rejected lots of times.
As we reach my bus stop I stand up and give hugs to Tina, Brianna and Olivia which I do everyday and kind of have to if I don’t want to have every girl on the bus start trying to kill me.
As I walk to my house located on Marquette and Ingleside in the south side of Chicago, I think about how many great things I’ve missed out on because I can’t stay after school. How may times my friends have tried to invite me to a party or to go to the water tower but I was unable to because my parents won’t let me stay downtown without an adult that they know and trust. I shrug my shoulders as I approach giant brick house that is meant to be an apartment in the basement and a five family house in the top, but it now holds a five number family including our dog, I know that life’s gonna change tomorrow.
