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Tags: New, York

After hating each other for years, the neighbors Dwayne Allen and Andrew Mayers were brought together by a hurricane at a local shelter. They discovered an unusual friendship that helped them through bad times. When secrets are discovered and feelings are unveiled, they put their friendship to the test and figure out their relationship might involve something more than just friendship. View table of contents...


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Submitted:Jun 26, 2009    Reads: 264    Comments: 1    Likes: 0   

New York, NY. December 15th, 1980. The city lights were now beginning to illuminate the dangerous streets of the big apple. The neighborhood's thieves soon came out to look for their victims. The mothers dragged their kids inside in order to keep them from the danger that was known to everyone.

In a building where numerous apartments served as home of the people who suffered from lack of wealth, fights went on behind the wooden doors. Inside of apartment number fourteen, the loud voices of two women were heard from the hallways.

"What do you mean ya ain't staying for Christmas?" - The older woman said, trying to diminish her anger as she finished cooking a soup.

"Mother, I already told you; I'm leaving!" - The younger girl screamed as she walked towards the door, carrying her three bags.

"You're making a big mistake, Sharelle. You're just a damn kid, for God's sake!" - The woman yelled angrily, throwing the kitchen spoon to the floor.

"I'm eighteen, mother! I know what I'm doing!"

"He's just gonna leave ya, just like your father left me!"

"Do not compare me to you! Anthony loves me!" - The girl said as she placed her hand on the door knob, preparing to leave.

"Oh, he's white. He don't love you, he's just using you."

"Mother, I won't let you judge him!"

"They're all the same! Whites and Blacks don't mix!"

"You're so old-fashioned! You're uneducated, and you're stupid! Now, I'm leaving!" - The girl sighed - "Good-bye mother."

Alisha, the mother, stared as her daughter while following her outside to the hallway. Sharelle made her way to the stairs. In an attempt to escape her aggravated mother, her shoe got stuck between the wheels of the bags. Her eyes opened wide as she approached the floor, trying to hold on to anything that was near. Alisha watched her daughter fall down the stairs.

That night, Sharelle was taken to the hospital. In the waiting room, Anthony Allen waited alone. He was worried to hear the worst. About forty minutes passed until the doctor appeared. His steps were firm and eternal to Anthony, who was impatient to hear what the doctor had to say. Finally, he heard what he was afraid of; Sherelle had lost the baby.

Nobody but the couple knew that they were expecting a baby, but now their dream of being parents had shattered.

"The good news," - The doctor added - "is that your wife is fine."

"Thank you, doctor."

Sharelle was released from the hospital and taken home by Anthony.For the rest of the night, the couple stayed awake in silence, struggling in agony and deception. Her mother called at one in the morning, apologizing to her daughter for not going to the hospital with them. The apology was accepted, but no further conversation occurred ever since.

It wasn't until three years later that Sharelle decided to call her mother, two weeks before Christmas. She told Alisha that she had married Anthony and they had just had their baby boy. Sharelle and Anthony were going to visit Alisha for Christmas, and they were bringing their son with them. Although Alisha still did not approve her daughter's marriage, she was excited about meeting her grandson.

On December 22nd, the family arrived to that building that brought so many bad memories. The hallways were still dressed in old and stained blue carpet. The scratched wooden doors only looked older. The rusted numbers "14" on Sharelle's mother's apartment were barely noticeable anymore.
They knocked on the door and were soon welcomed by the white-haired, bulk woman and the scent of home-made cinnamon cookies. Memories suddenly began to emerge and welcomed Sherelle back home. Alisha admired the beautiful newborn and was quick to ask Sharelle if she could hold him. At her old age, she had forgotten how it felt to hold a baby.
Sharelle smiled as she admired the delightful sight of acceptance, and in a melancholic and sweet voice, she whispered "his name is Dwayne."
It was the morning of December, 24th. Sherelle had agreed with Anthony to go to the grocery store and buy the ingredients they still needed for the dinner. After having breakfast, the couple headed to the store, leaving the baby at her mother's care.

At 1:37 p.m. Alisha's phone rang. It was from the police and they warned Alisha that she'd prepare to hear the news. There had been an accident at Farragut Street, two blocks away from the grocery store. One of the buses that crashed and caused the accident rolled over and landed on its side on top of ten pedestrians who were crossing the street, among them were Anthony and Sherelle Allen.

Alisha hung up, wandered to the living room and stared at the beautiful baby. Her sight blurred out as her eyes began to water. She caressed the boy as her screams and cries fused with the baby's innocent giggles.


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