By Ouanessa Nana
Even holding my arm up to an open flame didn’t burn the purple scales off. The heat numbs my skin and the sharp aching pain pierces through my lungs. I bite my lip in agony and it bleeds. The scales glistened, edgier, and more brittle than ever. I’ve been trying to get my life back for years.
It all started with that old woman in front of the grocery store. I was already angry, electric fury hurtling towards my chest for being kicked out under the suspicion that we were thieves. But my best friend Tamika was still cheery and shrugged off their prejudice like it was getting a taste of bad candy. The old lady was covered in tattered black clothes and she gave us a toothless grin as we were escorted out of the store by a security guard. Tamika smiled back. I waved. Then I averted my eyes back to my feet. I was also embarrassed. The pit in my stomach was so close to rising to my chest and suffocating me.
I was so careful when going into stores. Never opening anything without buying it first, not drawing any attention to myself, making sure my bags were exposed and close shut. But it didn’t matter. “Nova and Tamika, would you like a drink?” The old lady whispered. That should have been our first warning sign. She knew our names. Tamika and I nodded. “What kind?” I asked, playing along. She pulled out a pack of purple colored soda cans from the brown bag by her feet. “Cream soda, naturally flavored,” she said.
“Flavored with what?” But she didn’t answer me. Just handed me and Tamika the cans and smiled. I pulled five dollars out of my pocket and handed it to her. Then Tamika and I inspected the cans. They were cylindrical shaped with bubble letter wording and small hearts. There were no nutrition facts labeled. “Hey, is this stuff safe?” I asked. But when I looked up the lady was gone.
Tamika pulled the tab and the soda can opened with a crackle. I put my hands forward trying to stop her. “Wait! I don’t think we should drink these,” I said. She shrugged her shoulders, placing the can to her lips and taking a huge swing. “Why not?” I sighed, opening mine and taking a small sip. It tasted like vanilla and it was sweet. I couldn’t get enough. It was like drinking an ice cream float. By the time I had noticed Tamika’s skin was changing, I had finished the entire can.
I backed away in horror. “What’s going on?” Tamika was unrecognizable. Her bright brown eyes were now a clear blue. Her brown curls were now straight and honey-red. Her smooth chocolate skin was now milky white and her right arm was covered in purple scales. Then my bones started breaking and I screamed. I could feel my bones shrinking, taking my height as my long legs got shorter. Scales started growing along my arm and I could feel them pushing their way through my skin, leaving an irritable itching sensation. My entire body was tingling. I was afraid to look at my reflection.
Tamika was jumping up and down and squealing. I threw up on the sidewalk. A group of women walked past us, giving us bright smiles and commenting on how we looked. I flinched. I was used to people pretending that we didn’t exist. There were a few men on the far side of the parking lot staring. I grabbed Tamika’s hand and rushed to our car. “Isn’t this great?!” She said,
I raised an eyebrow at her, was she out of her mind? “Great?” I seethed. “No, this is a nightmare. How are we going to change back?” Tamika wriggled out of my grasp. “Change back? Why? Don’t you see what this means?” “No, I don’t,” I said. She shook her head at me, giving a flirty wave to a couple that passed by us. “We can do whatever we want now. Get special privileges. When we were black, all anyone ever treated us was like dirt but now we can be someone,”
I started thinking about this for a second. No more tough hair that is nearly impossible to comb even when adding a relaxer. No more dumb questions about our lineage. No more itchy wigs or tight braids. When times were tough and being black was becoming a little unbearable, all I wished for was to get the beauty and the praise that came with being white. Maybe I would be richer. Maybe my dad would be alive. And now I got it. But it doesn’t feel right.
“I don’t know Tamika. This feels wrong.” I looked up at her searching her blue eyes for some kind of agreement but she was gone. “Well I don’t know about you but I’m going to start living the life I deserve to have,” Then she gets into the car and drives away, leaving me standing there all alone. That was the last time I saw her. Now I was standing in front of an old abandoned building chasing ghosts trying to find the old lady from that day. I knocked on the weather beaten door, waiting.
Since the transformation my boyfriend dumped me. He recognized who I was but he said he loved my curly brown hair and dark complexion. It was his favorite part about me. I had always believed that deep down he would leave me for someone white, someone prettier. I was wrong. My mother wouldn’t let me into the house until I looked like her daughter again. I was proposed to three times. Tamika is engaged and has a multimillion-dollar cosmetic company. She seems happy. She won’t return any of my calls or texts. I always thought being someone else would fix things but I wasn’t the one that needed to change, it was the world.
I haven’t slept or eaten in weeks and this was my last clue. My chest heaved, and my ribs collapsed on themselves as the door opened and I was greeted by a woman with white curly hair and caramel colored skin. It was the woman from the grocery store. I finally found her. Sweat drips down my back as she lets me in.
THE END.