11 - Not Black Enough

11 - Not Black Enough

Emma

Before

The day my mom died was one of the happiest days of eighteen years of my life. Oops, nineteen. It was my birthday, after all.

It started with me waking up to Caleb’s phone call, demanding me to open the curtain of my bedroom window and looking over the vast backyard towards his parked Jeep. My boyfriend was waving at me with white balloons and shouting, ‘Happy Birthday, Emma fucking Moore!’ Despite how it could have angered mother (when one of her maids updated about my life) I was grinning.

I was happy.

“Miss Moore, are you listening to me?” the sweet voice of Mrs Karen cranked through the phone, making me snap out of my head and shiver. I looked around at the dinner table, Mia and Summer laughing at Caleb’s dad’s joke.

My head felt heavy and tongue felt like lead. “Can you hear me, Miss Moore?”

“Yes.” I stood up, briskly walking out of the restaurant and breathing in a lung full of crisp night air. It was such a good weather. “I can hear you