Searching for Love, Found Wealth

(Cont. from the voice message)

I frowned, she didn’t usually call me Chen Lan. We call each other by our English names, the ones we were christened with.Published by Nôv'elD/rama.Org.

Her was Tori (Victoria), mine was Jon (Jonathan). It really displeased me to hear her yell out “Chen Lan” but she seemed really displeased herself.

“Fine” I said and we began to leave. She lectured me about Racism and countries involved in it on our way home.

She told me how she was going to be a lawyer to defend the rights of victims of racism.

On our path, four boys came before us. Tori eyes them and moved a step forward, shielding me behind her.

“Lets rid our land from evil” one of them had said. They charged at us. Tori had taken her Kung-fu classes seriously, I hadn’t. She had to fend for me and fend for herself.

They were bigger than us. What surprised me was that everywhere seemed quiet. No one heard our screams.

Someone pounced on me. I had heard Tori shouts. I couldn’t fathom what happened next but…There was a murder.

Tori was beaten to death and I lived with a crippled leg for five years.

We were victims of racism but our case was treated like mere play.

I heard the boys paid a fine. Just a fine. Don’t even know what it was for. I relocated back to China to stay with my grandma.

I really wished I had listened to Tori or hadn’t dragged her here. As I saw her coffin leave, her name “Victoria Lee Chika” written at the side of the coffin, had an inscription “victim of racism, a pure soul”.

Tears dropped down my eyes on seeing that. Yes, she was a pure soul and a victim of racism.”

(End of voice message)

I nearly broke down in years when the audio finished, she was a pure soul yet a victim of racism, big time.

That boy would really blame himself for everything. To watch someone you care about die in front of you just because your race and skin aren’t of the ‘superior’ type.

But aren’t Chinese like whites somehow, I mean skin wise, they look almost like whites. Racism was pure evil. I hated whites. Does that make me a racist too?

I left my room to help my mom shop for my little sister, the half black, half white. My mom was really generous in the things she bought.

Teddies and big pillows. All the fancy stuffs for kids. To think Dad might not have given her money for all this expenses. I pray tomorrow would come slowly.

I wasn’t sure of myself around her. When we get back from the mall, we were so tired we slept off.

My eight o’clock bell woke me up from bed. It was Saturday. I jumped up from my bed and hurriedly ran to my mom’s room. During school days, she woke me up, this time is my turn.

“Good morning, let’s go arrange my half sister’s bed, shall we?” I shouted. She turned the other way and coiled herself. “Come on mom, rise and shine. It’s a beautiful day”.

I ran down the stairs to check if our pizza delivery guy came around. He was late again. I went to the kitchen and placed a kettle of water on the gas for tea. Mom sluggishly came downstairs.

“Did you brush your teeth or take your bath?”. I shook my head to her again. “Did you have a bad dream where I had beaten you up that you woke up and the first thing you thought to do was yell me out of my sleep?” she was almost red.

“Awwn, you should be happy I woke you up. You’d be receiving this more when my little half sister comes around” I joked and went back upstairs, totally ignoring my mom’s annoyance.

She probably stood there for sometime thinking of a good place to dump me. Oh then she remembers “I’m stuck with that little brat”.

I let out a loud howl as I went to have a shower. My mood nearly changed completely when I remembered another little brat coming today.

Well, I didn’t really know how she is like and shouldn’t call her a brat. And for a seven-year-old girl, she’ll probably be quiet, loves chocolate and pink bowties, and wants to watch all Disney princesses’ cartoons.

But I knew another seven-year-old girl who wasn’t interested in all that – Me!

Well I hoped she was because I could bet she’d receive all that if she doesn’t just ever try to drag my mother’s attention with me.

She should pray God lets her gay mom so she’ll accept her back.

“Honey, what color should be her bedding?” mom asked from my room.

“The usual pink all girls like!” I shouted back. “Oh, but you don’t like pink” her voice trailed off as she left my room.

I started a song as I bath. Sadly, time went passed like the wind. I spent most time on my Facebook account filling up personal data.

My news feed seemed too serious so I visited some dad jokes groups and memes page.

I had let out as shout due to a joke I saw but I think it coincidentally with someone ringing the doorbell. I looked out my window to see a woman with a little girl.

My wall clock said it was ‘1:35pm’ so why was she here already. As I ran downstairs, I saw mom sewing a piece of clothing meaning she wasn’t done with dressing the bedding. Why didn’t she come by three as reported?

“Hello, ma’am” I greeted gloomily. The ‘half sister’ gave me a cold glare then looked away.

“I’m here to drop Gladys James. I’m her language teacher sent by her father. I hope I have the right address?” I nodded and opened the door wider for them to come in but only the little girl came in. The woman thanked me and left.