Warm blood, beer bottles covering all corners of the street with red lipstick kisses from a girl’s pale lips. The streets reeked of despair, grief, the smell of dying flesh as each teen puffed a cigarette. The world that night was one big black hole. There was nothing but hopeless, lifeless, unaware, chaotic adolescents dancing under the moonlit sky. He..he was the only teenager with common sense, the only one with a brain, a sense of free will. Darkness grew, wind became stronger. He described night as the devil’s workshop. 

He says that he is at play mostly at night lurking every corner stealing the bodies of hopeless teenagers and using the weak to defeat the strong but the wise teenager knows better…”stay strong”..”I have to get out of here.” Black, the color that filled the night: profound, misinterpreted, new, sleek, strength. It is something about the color that screams power, independence. Something that could change the future, something that could stir up the game we call life. Fallen, broken yet can be pieced back together to make something that is brand new, improved but much powerful than before. 

The color black, a misinterpreted, unspoken thing that people until this day take advantage of and the message that surrounds it. Adolescents struck in confusion, fright and judgment pause in fright because they are blind as to what is right in front of them. What they do has a price that they must pay in return for their bad actions. Life doesn’t come easy to people, who said it was ever easy?


— Written by: Micah Parker


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