I real glad that she come, huggin' an' holdin' me- wipin' my tears on the sleeve of 'er dress. I can't think of no body no where who'd help me better, pretend she my mother an' save me from my own world. Cecile the only one for the job, an' I think, though she was black, she was sent down from the Heavens or somethin'. A gift from God, I guess she is. He never give me real nothin'- 'cept my beauty an' now Cecile.
Thank you Lord. Thank you. I sniffle against Cecile, but she don't move, so neither do I. As lon' as she willin' to wrap me up like a child, I'll stay in 'er arms.
Lord, I thank you, but could ya please send me James next, anotha angel boy to 'elp me? I don't got nobody round here to come an' save me, no stron' man. No one related to me by blood that I can care fo'. That I can fuss over, an' hold while they cry- no one to mother. An' it my job as a woman to do jus' that. James- my brother, I need 'em back.
"Know, can you tell me wha' wron', chil'?'
"I-I," I begin to sob again, a mess of tears an' other gunk on 'er dress. She don't seem to mind though, an' it jus' a slave dress anyways. Worth nothin' past the shoes on my feet. "I-I-I, daddy an' J-Jamess."
"Jus' call down- it gonna be alrigh' Corinne, you's fine."
I nod into 'er, tryin' to get a hold on myself. It jus' James, I want 'em. I want 'em so bad, an' I want a different daddy whom ain't so rude, an' I want Cecile to be white an' I want Mary to be nicer an' I want the Mistress to go back to bein' white trash an' I jus' wanna whole new life, with a whole different me. I ain't perfect enough fo' a role 'ere, I ain't perfect enough to fill the role they all want me to. An' they ain't perfect enough fo' me.
It jus' a circle, round an' round. We always strivin' to push some one else to fit our mold, an' I no different. Looky here, Cecile bein' all nice an' I still want 'er to be some one else- some one I can love fo' real.
This sends me even deeper into my sobs, my body shakin'. I so guilty fo' thinkin' it but I ain't not able to stop. I wish she was white, I wish it so hard. An' she would hate me fo' wishin' that- she would leave an' be my mother no mo'. I hate myself fo' it.
"T-thank you," I murmur to 'er, though she don't even kno' the real reason why. "I so- so s-s-sorry."
"Shh, chil'." She wraps 'er arms 'round tighter. "Shh, chil'. It okay, everythin' gonna be okay."
Thank you Lord. Thank you. I sniffle against Cecile, but she don't move, so neither do I. As lon' as she willin' to wrap me up like a child, I'll stay in 'er arms.
Lord, I thank you, but could ya please send me James next, anotha angel boy to 'elp me? I don't got nobody round here to come an' save me, no stron' man. No one related to me by blood that I can care fo'. That I can fuss over, an' hold while they cry- no one to mother. An' it my job as a woman to do jus' that. James- my brother, I need 'em back.
"Know, can you tell me wha' wron', chil'?'
"I-I," I begin to sob again, a mess of tears an' other gunk on 'er dress. She don't seem to mind though, an' it jus' a slave dress anyways. Worth nothin' past the shoes on my feet. "I-I-I, daddy an' J-Jamess."
"Jus' call down- it gonna be alrigh' Corinne, you's fine."
I nod into 'er, tryin' to get a hold on myself. It jus' James, I want 'em. I want 'em so bad, an' I want a different daddy whom ain't so rude, an' I want Cecile to be white an' I want Mary to be nicer an' I want the Mistress to go back to bein' white trash an' I jus' wanna whole new life, with a whole different me. I ain't perfect enough fo' a role 'ere, I ain't perfect enough to fill the role they all want me to. An' they ain't perfect enough fo' me.
It jus' a circle, round an' round. We always strivin' to push some one else to fit our mold, an' I no different. Looky here, Cecile bein' all nice an' I still want 'er to be some one else- some one I can love fo' real.
This sends me even deeper into my sobs, my body shakin'. I so guilty fo' thinkin' it but I ain't not able to stop. I wish she was white, I wish it so hard. An' she would hate me fo' wishin' that- she would leave an' be my mother no mo'. I hate myself fo' it.
"T-thank you," I murmur to 'er, though she don't even kno' the real reason why. "I so- so s-s-sorry."
"Shh, chil'." She wraps 'er arms 'round tighter. "Shh, chil'. It okay, everythin' gonna be okay."
