The school days drag on in what seems like a never ending stream of boredom. Everyday is the same. There is no excitement. No drama. No je ne sais quoi. The life of a teenager is so not what Darnell wants to deal with right now. He is sitting in the bathroom contemplating the reason for existence as the first bell for 2nd period rings. No longer wrapped in his thoughts, Darnell grabs his stuff, washes his hands, and walks towards class.

The only bit of excitement that Darnell gets is from the stares and glares that people who see him give. He glides down the hallway in tight black jeans, a tattered and pieced together jean jacket, creeper shoes that look like they come straight from whatever year these shoes were popular, and with his curly hair coiffed in a pompadour with a green bandana as a headband. Normally someone dressed like this would get reasonable stares, but apparently it is extremely strange to see someone non-white in a punk outfit. This doesn’t bother Darnell. In fact, it gives him the confidence to be able to handle his next class, History with suspected racist Mr. Sanders.

Mr. Sanders looks like the type of person you would see protesting outside of an abortion clinic or storming a capital for a president. He is stark white, balding, and always looks like he heard the most disturbing news at all times. Everyday he dresses like his mom still picks out his clothes. His wife must do everything for him.

The last bell for second period rings and Darnell saunters into the classroom door right before it ends. Mr. Sanders makes a comment about the student’s timing that he swiftly ignores before plopping in his seat at the back of the classroom for another day of learning whatever "the man" wants the class to learn and not actual history. Today Mr. Sanders is talking about the Civil War. He is writing facts on the board and bragging about how his family proudly fought in the war.

"For which side?" a soft voice asks from the mass of students.

Mr. Sanders normally wouldn’t have entertained the comment, but laughs from the other students erupted ferociously across the entire classroom. He turns around with a face as red as the cherry colored shirt he was sporting.

"Who said that? Speak up," Mr. Sanders says as he tries to calm himself down.

"That doesn’t answer the question," another voice chimes in from the mass of students.

Mr. Sanders regains his composure and continues his lesson. He confesses that his family came from the Confederate side and he isn’t actually proud of that fact. Darnell sighs and slumps in his chair to fall asleep. This class is the worst.

A few minutes pass and Darnell is jolted awake by his name being yelled from the front of the class. Mr. Sanders is looking at him with an intense gaze. Maybe he snored a bit.

"Mr. Wallace, would you mind summarizing the Civil War for me since you slept through most of my lesson?"

Darnell looks at the clock. Fuck! Of course there are only 5 mins left in class now. So much for a few minutes. Mr. Sanders starts growing visibly annoyed.

"The Civil War was about the right to own slaves. The North wanted to abolish it and the South didn’t want to give up their free labor. So the South decides that if the U.S is going to abolish slavery, they will no longer be a part of the United States. They threatened to succeed and a war ensued. I guess your ancestor must have really been mad to almost lose someone who looked like me, huh?"

"Mr. Wallace, that is enough," Mr. Sanders says as his face looks more agitated and red.

"Actually, because I am mixed I would have either been an illegitimate love child made from a night of forcible sex and no consent. The poor black woman would just have to endure that."

"Darnell! Please stop this right now!"

"For all you know, you great grandad could have procreated forcibly and you could have black family members you didn’t even know about"

Mr. Sanders gets so mad that his mouth looks like it’s frothing. He looks like a rabid dog. He huffs and scrambles back to his desk. He scribbles something on a piece of paper and points it towards the door while mouthing the word "Go" because he is too worked up to let noises come out of his mouth. Darnell gets up, walks to the front of the classroom, snatches the dermit slip and swiftly, yet confidently, walks towards the door. On his way out he says something about how the Sanders family was probably racist and lets the door close behind him. If Darnell knew it was that easy to get out of class, he would have worked Mr. Sanders up way before now.

Next Chapter: The Day It Started- Hakeem