Saudis under the Mask

What a strange thing. Skin. How it can quite literally define a persons worth. So many different types of skin. Black skin, white skin, tan skin, light skin. All only a melanin pigmentation, something that seems to be so simple and basic yet has a much more complex and intricate understanding for most. It is known to have cause multiple social imbalances in time. Tattooed skin, pierced skin, oh the amount of stereotypes they place on them. Scarred skin, flawed skin. How must they fear the laughter behind them or the stares in front of them. It’s funny how something as simple and as basic as skin can literally be the reason why someone didn’t get a job, or someone was being picked on. It could be the reason why skin-lightning creams are bought for seven year old “dark” girls. How some people refuse to sit next to a darker person just because of the melanin in their skin. How can something as simple as skin be the root of so many of our problems? I sit here, as I trace my grandmoth...

I'm walking down the flat, slippery pavement, still wet with rain. Your coat hangs loosely on my shoulders, and your hand limply holding mine. The streetlights are giving off a luminous, yet slightly depressing, glow; barely giving us enough light to see clearly. The silence is deafening, just the clicking of my heels on the concrete ground and your deep, solemn breaths. We stop at my front door, I turn to look at you. Curtains of thick, brown hair hide your face. A nervous trick you've adopted over time. You've always found it hard to open up, you never tell me how you feel. Your skin is translucent under the streetlights' glow, I can see the streams of blue and green veins on your tired face. Your nails are chewed to the nub. Your eyes, empty and glassed over. We exchange simple goodbyes, then you disappear into the darkness, the glow of the streetlights swallowing you whole. I stand there, with your coat still wrapped around me. I breathe a warm, foggy ...

I still feel you. You're everywhere. You're in every rainy day, every sad song. You're every cloudy sky and every book I read. You're every green eye I meet. You're presence still lingers around me. I have not forgotten. Your lemon perfume next to my bed still. I feel you even when your six feet under. You know I envy the ground that wraps your body. I hear your laughter sometimes, in other people you live on. I hate getting attached because I can't risk being ripped off like a band-aid again. So sudden, so quick. Gone. I still spray your perfume when I can't remember how your hugs were like. A lemony scent fills the air, and I remember what it was like to be enveloped in one of your hugs. I can't sleep at night, most nights. I drizzle your perfume on my pillow. I'm doing just fine. Pieces of you live on with me forever. I will always remember your every detail, even after I burned the pictures. Blonde hair falling right into place like a crown, fram...

Nobody listens. Nobody cares. And nobody understands. Years of pain and suffering have plagued my memory. I'm constantly screaming and crying for help, yet my voice still goes unheard. Tormented by the ghost of my past, tortured by my excruciating childhood. I am a pain magnet, I attract the worst of the worst into my life. You'd think I would've learned by now, but I didn't. I can't stop myself. I used to wake up every morning terrified of what the day will bring on, of where I'd see you haunting me next. But now I'm used to seeing you in everyone and everything. My life is a constant series of fake smiles and forced laughs in order to convince you that I'm okay. I'M OKAY! I'm fine. I'M FINE! I can be very good at convincing you I'm okay, you didn't even know I was crying myself to sleep every night. I'm so very far from fine. I'm screaming. Can't you hear me? Do you not hear my screams? How can you not hear me screaming?...

Run. It's coming. That little voice inside my head was screaming at me. RUN! I started running, where to, I'm not sure. I just knew I had to run. My feet gently pattered against the smooth, cold, ground. I was going faster and faster, letting the wind cool my hot face. The concrete was slightly stinging the bottoms my feet but I knew I couldn't stop. I was getting tired and slowly out of breath. The air around me was getting thicker and thicker. My windpipe was tightening up and I was slowly but surely suffocating. Breathe. Just breathe. Slow down and take deep breaths, But I couldn't stop. The voice inside my head kept yelling at me to RUN! My heart is palpating, beads of sweat were forming at my temples. I was in the middle of a road, it was dark. I was running. Behind me I could hear loud thuds, like footsteps that belong to a huge creature. A small growl erupted behind me. RUN! Faster I ran, faster, faster, FASTER! I can't breathe. I CAN'T...

1:16am. It's always that exact number. Same time, every single night, for the past two weeks. How do I begin to explain how much that number terrifies me? I haven't slept for days. I haven't been eating lately. I've been living off of strong black coffees and energy drinks to keep me up. I don't want to sleep. I can't sleep. I remember the first time it happened. I was on my laptop when the clock struck 1:16am. The closet creaked open and the air went cold. Something was crawling out of the closet and coming towards me. I wanted to scream, but I couldn't. It hovered over me and I saw those cold, dead eyes glazed over with a thick mucus. It sunk its long, sharp claws deep into my flesh and tore me apart as I screamed in agonizing pain. But I couldn't make a sound. Nothing was coming out of my mouth, and I couldn't move. Blood soaked my bed sheets and my clothes and flesh were ripped. The torture went on for what seemed like forever, but was...

       Star night, star bright, the first star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight.        How magical was that? How innocent. My wish was love. My wish was you. So wishes come true? Or is that just childish bullshit made up for fun? They say stars are born out of a tornado in space. Strong winds and harsh fires twist and turn angrily in space. Then out of all that struggle, a star is born. How funny, how very ironic. I wished for love and I got it. My 10-second love, my short lived romance. It was great while it lasted. Then everything changed,the stars spoke to me tonight.        They said you didn't want me, they said you found another. How can I ignore such bright, powerful, voices? You didn't call, you didn't text. Weeks had gone by, and I heard nothing from you. The stars mocked me, "We granted your wish? What more do you want?!" They said.        I saw you in t...