This Whitewash World of Ours Page 4

Page 4

         “No!” I screeched like the tires of GOD911 driving away. “No! No! No! No!” I saw my brother’s outline gracefully fall to the dull rocks. I ran to his body and saw him lying on the ground with his eyes open. Not a single movement escaped his body. Tears began to flow out of my eyes like a waterfall after a monsoon. I grabbed his body and held it in my arms. I held his once­lively body in my cold hands. Blood flowed from his heart and his neck. A terrified look was on his beautiful brown skin, and his eyes­ filled with no color, anymore.

       “Somebody get help! Someone!” I began to scream. I looked back and saw Mr. Joffrey’s frozen face come back to life.

       “Hold on honey, I’m calling 911!” His mouth stayed open in shock as he dialed. He ran over to me with the phone while staying on the line with the police. “Here put some water on h­”,

        Mr. Joffrey stopped talking when he saw Jasmeet’s body in my arms. “Oh no, oh no, oh my gosh!”

⇹⬵

       I wiped the tears from my face. I looked at the clock ticking away. I closed my eyes, struggling to take a breath. I saw the man who had hate gleaming in his blue eyes, brownish­red hair, and a scarred lip, looking at me in the lineup room. I saw Jasmeet, his smile, his life. I saw his preserved corpse lying in a casket. I heard my mother’s sobs outside the courtroom. I opened my eyes and looked to my right to see the jury. Their faces showcased the a diverse range of colors, all the way from ivory to a light beige. I looked down at the ground and gagged. I threw up in a small trash can near me.

      I wiped my mouth and looked up. I looked at the prosecutor telling me to take a breath.

      “Simran, whenever you are ready to continue talking, please do.” I looked at the ignorant jury sitting beside me.

      “May I ask the jury a question?” I asked the prosecutor. I stopped playing with my blazer.

      “If that is ok, I would like to ask them something.” She looked uneasily back at me.

      “Um, sure, go ahead.”

      “What images do you see when you hear the word terrorist? Stop hesitating, you know what you see. You see someone with brown skin, right? Someone with a scruffy beard, or a woman who is wearing a hijab. Some kind of an ‘unnatural’ head piece. That is a terrorist to you, to humanity.” I took a deep breath in between my muffled sniffles. “Your honor, this man killed my brother, and do you want to know why? Because of his turban! His stature! His very identity! He killed Jasmeet Param Kaur, my best friend and companion, right in front of me! And yet here we are, here I am, presenting to a Grand Jury, to prove that that sick man, William Burfield, killed Jasmeet.” The silence of the massive courtroom echoed through my mind. The jury stared at me waiting for me to prove something, without a clue in the world. “So this is where we have ended up. Where even though someone kills a fifteen year old boy solely because he was brown, the government sides with the killer. Why? Because he claims, ‘the boy was threatening him?’. My brother committed no mistakes while he was alive, he only made one. His mistake was being brown in this whitewashed world of ours.” Tears poured down my cheeks, burning through my skin.

        A few of the Jurors readjusted their seats in discomfort. With my tear filled eyes, I looked to the uneasy jury. I was waiting for something, someone to respond. Nothing. Silence. Life goes on they say, but does it? I began to cry again and started to turn my head away from the jury when I saw something. Right at the edge of all these white faces and white walls, I saw a chestnut colored face, shining. It had chocolate eyes and a smile of an angel. I looked back at the jury and saw him. I saw Jasmeet Param Kaur sitting there, smiling his smile back at me. He chuckled and a tear fell from his eye. I saw him mouth the words, ‘dhanwaad.’ Thank you. I began to bawl. I fell out of my chair and onto the floor crying my heart out. I looked back and saw him disappear, into thin air. The Jurors looked at me and then the corner Jasmeet was in, and began to whisper. Maybe I was losing it, maybe I was hallucinating, but I learned many things today.

Page 3                                                                                                                                                              Page 5

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