My Black Intruder

Reads: 402  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 2

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic
PLEASE. PLEASE. WRITE COMMENTS ON THE BOTTOM. IT WOULD MEAN THE WORLD!!!!!!!!!!!!. Really, really want to do well in this assignment.

Submitted: October 02, 2012

A A A | A A A

Submitted: October 02, 2012




Black or White Intruder

Pistols of sweat pierced the unwashed tiles that my master had once stepped on. The thundering pounds of my heart masked the roaring insults and apologies that swarmed through the depths of my soul. Demons now had possessed every inch and vein within my body, had I not been tied, I would have slayed the flesh that covered the skeleton of my satanic angel. Pull yourself together; the rope is what you need to take focus on. Tears sunk deeply into the backs of my eye sockets; within the process of drowning in the salt covered liquid my vision of the ceiling fan morphed into the blades of a helicopter about to take flight. Had I been drugged? Or had my body overdosed in shots of adrenaline? The intruder stepped towards me, dragging a sense of pride behind him.

“How dare you. Walk upon this earth with such hate and disgrace in your”I swallowed the lump that grew in my throat. It hurt like hell, but I managed to push it to the pit of my soul.

The dark shadows of the night blanketed my intruder’s colour, but I knew that he was a Negro. How I despised and wanted to kill every one of those dogs. Slam. The hinges of the door made a loud creaking noise as my satanic angel left for the streets. I reached for the phone, still tied in ropes. My insides ached with the burning sensation of some kind of poison that reached the tips of my fingers as I dialed 911.

 “Hello, someone has just invaded my master’s hou”

 I blacked out.

My eyes struggled to open because of the cyst that covered the outsides of my eyelids. Where the hell am I? I walked towards a mirror, where the reflection of a girl with numerous bruises and a crusty scar stared back at me. I jumped in fright as I saw and felt the presence of a man in uniform appear at the very side of the young female. The taste of vomit and the scent of blood faded into words that circulated my brain. Who the hell is she? Who the hell is he? Where the hell am I? It was as if the senses in my body had been zapped with a freeze – ray.

  “I realize that you are most probably frightened. That is why the officers and I at the police station had arranged for you to occupy this room until we catch the culprit.” It wasn’t much of a room; the only objects that filled the room were the mirror and a table with a crooked leg. “We found you, lying on the floor completely knocked out. Do you remember anything from last night?” There was no response. “Miss, we found two suspects that could have been at your place around the time of the crime scene.”

 “How’s that possible? I didn’t even see his face.”

“As police officers, it is in our job description to ask around for any possible suspects. Your neighbors had been asked for the features of the man who had left your house at around 1pm, and they all came up with the same person. Now if you could please follow me into the main room. I would like to see if you can see a resemblance in any of our suspects’ faces.”

My eye lids grew heavy with excitement and anxiety as I walked towards my satanic angel. The tips of my lids, now touching the tops of my cheekbones, distracted the heavy feeling inside my stomach. I didn’t know much about physiology, being 15 years old, but I did know that it was going to take years of counseling sessions to unravel the feeling inside my stomach. Everything was dark, from the insides of my lids to the bottom of my stomach. A sudden impulse of wanting to gag suggested that the strawberry incense had transformed into the putrid smell of a year old body odor. I opened my eyes to see two different coloured men standing right in front of me. Amazingly enough they had the exact same features.  The Greeks would have been proud to call them their own. Their perfectly carved features and sculpted jaw lines would have made Aphrodite melt. My eyes were drawn to the dark coloured man. It had to be him. All Negros are known for their uncanny behavior and deserve to die for it.

“It’s him. It has to be him. He’s a Negro. Sentence him to jail. All Negros deserve to die. How about instead of sending him to jail, you execute him for attempting murder on an innocent white child? ”

The Negro, now on the floor with tears sinking deeply into the cotton candy coloured carpet. “Please, don’t do this. It was me who stole your money. But I only did it for my wife’s operation since she is suffering from a chronic heart disease, and we’re struggling to pay for our rent because the government raised the taxes for us Negros. My kids, who are around your age, also need the money for first- aid because every day after school they come home with cuts and bruises. They tell me, that the white kids pick fist fights with them at lunch and don’t stop until they draw blood.

That’s when it struck me. I had never felt any sense of empathy towards a Negro ever, until this very day, “Wait, a sec are your kids Terrance and Shanice Johnson? “


I made a swift turn towards the policeman on my right, my hair lashed against my eyelashes as I did so. “You have to let this man go. His children have been through so much. And this man has supported them throughout their hard times. One of his kids told me that he works day and night just to know that his children won’t bleed to death from all the heart ache and pain that life and others have thrown at them.”




© Copyright 2019 johnstoner. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:


More Mystery and Crime Short Stories