Chapter 1 -(pt 3)

Her feet trudged on, reluctant to take her home. Slowing down, Shanelle looked up at the sky to breathe. She should probably go to the store while she's out. That sounded like a good idea. The food she'd carried in her bookbag from the Johnson's had probably gotten smooshed all over the place.

Instead of continuing straight, she turned right and headed to the Matthews' cornerstore. It felt good to walk. In spite of the brief break she'd gotten the night before, Shanelle was mentally preoccupied. Jasmine chatted on endlessly about school, boys, what she was going to wear for her birthday, the new movies that were out, and so on and so forth. Shanelle relished the thought of having nothing else to worry about but herself, yet couldn't imagine being able to do so.

Jasmine could pull out of her closet what she wanted to wear whenever she wanted to. She didn't even wash her own clothes. Meanwhile, Shanelle had to hand wash her uniform immediately after returning home from school, or else it wouldn't be dry enough to wear the next day.

She would scrub and scrub until whatever stains were there came out. The material wore thin over time, and some mornings, she just had to go to school damp. She wasn't jealous of Jasmine; just grateful to be her friend. Shanelle knew she didn't have everything and Jasmine seemed to have everything; it didn't change their friendship.

In fact, she loved to be around Jasmine's family. Her dad, Chino Johnson, was, in Shanelle's eyes, the epitomy of perfection. He was such a leader; firm but gentle, loving yet manly, intelligent and hardworking but also down to earth.

He worked hard for his family, yet made time for them. And he treated Shanelle like she belonged. Tall, dark and yielding a strong build, he had a voice deeper than anyone Shanelle had ever heard. When he spoke, his voice was twinged with an unfamiliar accent, very faint yet present.

---

Chino and June Johnson were the strongest power couple Shanelle could have ever been fortunate enough to see in action. Every day, they worked together in a flow that made it seem like they had the same thoughts without saying anything. When there was a conflict, they worked as a team to solve it, and every time, it was solved successfully. When they disagreed, they debated almost, taking apart piece by piece the elements of cause and affect so that nothing was overlooked, and the real issues got solved.

Shanelle adored June, primarily because she reminded her of what her own mother used to be like. June managed her household, kept a good hand on the finances she brought in, and learned whatever craft was needed to be as self sufficient as possible. She knitted, sewed, and baked, all of which kept the flow of income circulating. She dressed with such modesty to Shanelle. It wasn't that she wore long skirts or buttoned up suits, but she never showed cleavage, and she managed to still look pleasant. Her choice of apparel was always modern and classy, and she carried herself with so much grace, she let off an aura wherever she went. More importantly, it seemed as if Mrs. Johnson knew who she was. Shanelle wondered if she herself would ever get to that point.

Jasmine's 5 year old sister, Anna, who was engulfed in so much energy and imagination, would practically made up toys for the toys she already had. The world all around her was her playground, and whenever one had the privilege to observe her play, she made what looked normal and average mystical. Shanelle felt connected deeply to Anna. Watching the child made her feel as if she were little all over again, in a genuine place of purity where everything was an adventure.

Entering the store amidst the comfort of her thoughts, Shanelle was shocked to see the Matthews' oldest son, Michael, at the register. What she was about to do would have been a whole lot easier had it been either of his parents. The way Shanelle saw it, their eyes weren't as sharp, and neither were their reflexes. Michael brought on a whole new set of challenges. He moved about the store while he worked, and he seemed to be so attentive every time he was around. He'd graduated highschool early a year prior, at age 16, three years older than herself. He smiled warmly at her as she walked in.

" What's up Shanelle? How you? Haven't seen you around like that..."

"Hey Mike. I'm aight'. " Shanelle said, intentionally keeping it short. She knew all too well Jasmine was obsessed with him. Everyone knew if your best friend had a crush on someone, you didn't say anything to them that was more than a sentence. Even if they were three years older and neither of you had a chance. It also didn't help to know that Michael graduated a year earlier than he should have.

"It would be just like dating a senior, Nelle!" Jasmine would say here and there, fantasizing. She talked about it so much, it got on Shanelle's nerves. She wondered if Mr. Johnson would see the idea of Jasmine dating at all as casually as she made it sound. She mentioned it once, and Jasmine hadn't said anything else to her for the rest of the day. Shanelle didn't mind; that was the last she heard the name "Michael" that week. Of course it resumed schedule the following.

---

"That's good, that's good," Michael nodded, writing something on a notepad.

He wasn't Shanelle's type anyway. He had high yellow skin, with curly, jet-black hair that went past his ears. He didn't stand very tall, but reached a few inches over her head.

Shanelle preferred smooth dark skin, tanned deeply to fahrenheit charcoal by the sun to be more specific, and guys with a little more height.

Walking towards the back of the store, Shanelle's hands started to get clammy. She knew she had only $1.25 in her pocket, and that was only enough to get some candy. She pretended to look at the frozen food items feeling as if Michael were searing holes into the back of her head with his eyes. Uncomfortable, she glanced over her shoulder at him. Seeing her gaze, Michael quickly averted his eyes, face going red. She couldn't believe it. He was nervous! Or was it shy?

Looking back at the frozen section, Shanelle tried to come up with a plan fast. The store door opened, bell jingling. A few people came in talking.

Seizing the opportunity, Shanelle took a few microwave dinners and slid them under her shirt. She felt horrible stealing from the Matthews. They were such a sweet family. She had no other choice. How else were the girls going to eat? The food from Mrs. Johnson was only enough for tonight; they had to eat later.

Zipping up her grey jacket she turned to go to the back isle. In mid step, she froze as a man a few feet away locked eyes with her. Her mouth went dry. The man smiled, showing a few missing teeth as he pulled a ski mask over his head. Placing a finger up to his lips in a shushing gesture, he then moved it to the side of his head and clicked his thumb, mimicking the action of pulling the trigger of a gun.

If Shanelle hadn't used the bathroom before she left school, she was certain she'd be peeing on herself now. Creeping low, he pulled out a handgun and rushed past her. He and two other men started yelling at Michael and pointing guns at him. They cursed and shouted degrading things, threatening him. A third guy ran around the back of the counter and stuffed merchandise into his bag. They all wore ski masks with skulls on the front.

Michael hurriedly put whatever cash he had into their bags and held his hands up. When they appeared to have what it was they wanted, two ran out of the store. The last one that had initially confronted Shanelle lingered for a few seconds. A loud noise exploded all around, and she fell to the floor terrified. The door opened and all was silent. Everything happened so fast. She could hear her heartbeat blaring in her ears.

Shanelle didn't dare move. Finally, when she was sure they were gone, she gathered herself from the floor and looked around. They were gone. Relief flooded her as she shook violently.

"Shanelle... You good?" Michael peered over the counter at her. The color was drained from his face, as odd as it looked.

Nodding, a few tears escaped from her eyes. She could feel the threat of a panic attack coming on.

Opening his arms to her, she took them willingly, trembling as she clung.

"It's okay... It's okay..."

He held her for a moment. She could feel him shaking as well.

Wiping her eyes with a fist, she stepped back and breathed. He looked her over, suddenly frowning.

"Shanelle... There's blood on your hands!"

Gasping at the sight of blood, she began searching frantically for the wound. Taking out his phone, Michael hurried and called the police.

When he got off of the phone, he staggered in step, trying to walk to her. There were no wounds other than the old one she'd had from the night before from the glass. Shanelle then saw the blood that was sleeping through his t-shirt and realized it wasn't her.

"Mike.... Mike! It's not me, you, you, you got shot! They shot you Michael!"

Feeling his shirt, he stumbled down to the ground, expression dazed.

Running to the door, Shanelle moved to call aloud for help, but the words were stuck in her throat. She'd stolen from the store. She was just as guilty as those thugs. The realization struck her.

She couldn't just up and leave Michael in there. But what if they caught her too? She couldn't tell about the man she saw. Surely he would find her and kill her. Thinking better of it, she glanced back at Michael. He'd already called the police... They should be arriving at any moment. Making the most shameful decision of her life, Shanelle took off and ran. She ran and didn't look back.

Eating the stretch of blocks with her feet, the image engraved within her mind was one of Michael in a pool of blood... blood that she had left him in. Bursting through her front door, she searched the house for her mom. Instead, she saw June standing by the hallway. She stood with her hands clasped.

At the sight of blood on Shanelle, she gasped and rushed over.

" Nelle what happened? Who did this to you? Where are you hurt?" June's face exploded in color.

"I'm not hurt, I'm not... But Michael... I'm .... He's..."

With another move of her arms, the microwave dinners slid out of her shirt onto the floor. June looked down at the stolen goods. Her, eyes widened in disbelief.

"What's this?"

Face crumpling, Shanelle lowered her head. Pulling her in, June searched for words. "Baby, what happened...?"

Shanelle couldn't answer. She just weeped, holding on to June like a baby. All she could do was cry.