Shantih Journal 3.1 - Page 60

been through, this will not be your fate in life. They step in closer. I start to spin in a circle in an attempt to see if one of them tries to grab for me. I spot a flash of movement in the periphery and start barreling toward it, lifting my camera high and slicing it in a downward arc over and over again. My husband stomps toward the group at the same time with his arm up, running through the crowd of men in an attempt to reach me. A few go flying, the rest scramble to get away. My skin turns a deep brown in the sun, the melanocytes in my skin responding by producing melanin to protect me. 60 The one and only time I see the inside of a cell is when I’m twelve-years-old. I wait for my mother to go to sleep before sneaking out to meet a twenty- year-old gangbanger I’ve been dating. A police car driving through the busy intersection pulls into the empty gas station I’m waiting outside of. The officer gets out and asks me if I know what time it is. I ignore him. He walks toward me and repeats the question. “It’s way past curfew,” he says. “I’m just waiting for a ride,” I finally respond. There are a few open cans of beer at my Y] BX[ۈ[XۙH\ 8'\H\H[\'HH[[H^H\[&] \\YKH[HۛHZ][܈^HYY[ H]H[\\[][[[H\[وHY\][ۋH\۸&][Y]HYK^\Hۛ›^H\KH[YYH[]YH[HXو\ܝZ\\HZ\›YHۈ\ٙXH[ܚ]\ۈH[ܛX][ۈH]H[K8'\[\[Hۛ[x&\H] 8'HH\ˈH[[H]H\ˈH\۸&][Y]HYKH]\YHYH[\HYۈ\ܝZ\\\^H&\˜YH[ˈH\\H[]H\Z[XH\[˜[ۋ]H[XY[HHY\[[\HY\ۋ^][YH۝܈وH\K\H[\HܛHؙB\[\YۋHYH[HXوHܝZ\\HٙX\^Z[]\\[Y ^H]YK\\[Y[][š\^YX]\H\H]XX\܈H[K]H۸&]ٙ\\[^[][ۋHٙX\[\\H^YH۝XHX[\B]Y[^H[\[H܋H\\Y\H\^YHۈYK