I sit on my chair, draw it closer to my desk and start to stare. I crack my knuckles and finally decided to draw something. Wait! I should be romancing my bed right now. I wonder how I'm still burning with strength after all the extra classes I had to endure because of the promotion exams to the final year. I'm still a junior, one more year and I'm out of this freaking high school.

    I didn't even bother to check the notice board for the results. Please, I already knew I passed. With a 5.1 GPA on a 5 point scale, I more than passed. Though, it's hard being a rare genius in school; the competition, Olympiads, pressure, and the high horse you are placed on. You can feel the entire everybody staring at you, waiting for that moment you let your guard down. One single mistake and you receive the humiliation they think you deserve. Just hope I can keep this up for the next year.

    Oh My! I haven't even drawn anything and at any moment, he's gonna come here again. I focus my pencil on the forever awaiting paper and start to muster up something in my mind.


    "Hey Menma!" the boy said.

    Why, why, why? This happens every time! God, why does he always target my sweet morning? Quickly, I fake a bright smile so well that if he didn't know better, he would have thought I actually enjoyed his presence.

    "Hah, so you're awake little brother?" I responded.

    "Yep, I am"

    He was still itching his eye so he didn't notice I was facing him with an extremely wide smile across my mouth. When he opened his eyes, he wished he didn't. And within a flash, he escaped my room not wanting to feel my wrath.

    "There, there, that's more like it" I said. I chuckled a bit before going back to my paper. Oh, how I love torturing the little rascal with my smile. How many times would I tell him?

    1.    Don't come to my room first thing in the morning.

    2.    I am always drawing or doing whatever my room tells me to do in order to make it flawless for

    the day.

    3.    I only spend one hour so if you don't see me anywhere in the house especially the balcony; since that is the first place I hit after leaving my room. Boy! Don't bother me.

    Geez! Who in the world doesn't get that? Poor Rory, his morning isn't complete if he doesn't set his eyes on me.

    Great! Just great! My paper is still empty and I have forty minutes before my one hour expires. I was able to draw out something in fifteen minutes, but when I looked at my drawing, I almost fell off the chair shocked at the terror I had just drawn.

    A WOLF? No, this isn't right. Sure I have medals to attest to my artistic work but never have I drawn a damn wolf offhand! "Okay, calm down; you haven't finished the drawing yet, you're still on the head part. So you can't say if you should be scared or proud." I thought. Besides, maybe it's just the after effect of the supernatural movies I have been watching lately. I shrugged off the disdain on my face, stripped down and headed for the bathroom. There I meet another shock; my body.

    I looked into the mirror to see the boy who had a sadist look just like the one I always gave whenever I wanted to intimidate someone. Wow, I completely forgot I had a smashing body, with the light blue eyes of mine; ok let's not delve into that. The exams had me worked up so much that I didn't remember how handsome I was, observing my entire frame, all I saw was a guy....


    The perfect guy.

    God, my head is pounding with sexual sensations.

    I want him, I need him.

    Back off! He's mine.

    All I want is to 'crème de la crème' my body on him.

    <Flashback Ends>

    I laughed recalling all the crazy compliments I got if I dared to step on 'the stage.' Insane kids, it was called the hallway where our lockers are stacked on either side. Then, something went down and since that day, anything that will attract a large group of students, take it to the hallway... sorry I mean 'the stage.'

    And did I forget, I'm black, so do you see my pain? The usual conclusions: ape, macho man, thug, drug dealer, young boy in the flesh but a grown man at love, protégé in bed, and so on. I could go on and on, I know you love this part of my story, but No! I prefer putting people in suspense. I still have a lot to tell you.

    One last question: do I love the fame and attention? Of course, I love it! Who wouldn't want my life, I'm perfect in every way possible, and I mean every way. Nah, you don't like it remember, gosh do I have to remind every time?

    What! I snap out of my thoughts, 'Who's there, show yourself!' I shout. Apparently, I was looking for the supposed traitor who was listening to my conversation. It's me! Menma. I turned back to the mirror, laughing so loud that I wonder if I'm actually being heard this time. That is my other me. Do you recollect in cartoons when a character wants to make a big decision, and then one spirit pops out on each side of his head? He then juggles his heart on which advice is best; so Congratulations! You just found the real-life manifestation of your cartoon days in me.

    I have two sides, opposing sides obviously, but I dare you to solve their puzzles in this story. I told you l loved putting my audience in suspense, right? Now let me see if you can keep up.




    I quickly rushed out of the bathroom, doing the needful that brings out the melodious heat capable of making girls' heart flutter. I then pick up my black sweater with '93' imprinted in front, alongside my black joggers and a pair of white Nike shoes from the rack. I obviously won't wear all black, lest I get another weird nickname. Damn! Everything fitted perfectly into my lightweight boxer frame. Please, who said I wasn't fashionable.

    Getting out of my room, I move to the balcony up ahead and turn left. I sniff the beautiful air the morning has for me as I hold the rails. My favorite place in the house where I can see the skies that remind me of the color of my eyes and how nature is indeed splendid.

    'Alright, time to go' I said.

    I rushed down to the kitchen, picking up six slices of bread, a little can of corn-beef and sachet butter. I looked at the wall clock with my pupils wide open.

    'Shit! It is 9:40' I cursed. I'm seriously late for class. I continued raking to and fro thinking for what I thought was lost, finally, I branch kitchen again to take a bottle of orange juice, Yep, my prized fruit juice. Meanwhile, three figures were watching me with baffled eyes, and then...

    'Honey, aren't you done for the term?' A voice asked.

    I froze. What is wrong with me today? I forgot there are no more classes since we've finished our curriculum for the year? Seeing my reaction to the question just asked, they all burst out in laughter.

    'Come here, hon. Even if you'll still go to school at least finish your food' The voice continued. I bowed and laughed within.

    'Way to go genius' I thought. We all sat at the dining table and to my left, the stunning Mrs. Marey Peterson sat. She braided her light brown hair backward, which gracefully fell into a pigtail on each side. Reaching 5 feet and 7 inches, with her smooth cream color and hour-glass structure, I bet she was the dream of every man. Silly me, sometimes I tease her, claiming I would have married her if she was in my age group. I'm her adopted son, but looking at the both of us, one would think she married a Negro as we have the same eye color.

    Down to my right was adopted father, Mr. Hill Peterson. That striking face together with his dark brown eyes attracted long stares from his admirers. His brown skin was complimented with his spiky black hair that managed to look rough no matter how much he tried to keep it tidy. That was his secret that made him look seriously sexy. Dad stood at six feet, packing of a fierce set of muscles and chest blending with his straight body. At least, now I know why they both fell for each other, though I'm pretty sure Dad fell first.

    Finally, sitting opposite me, as usual, is my younger brother, Rory, or should I say 'little rascal.' There isn't much to his appearance since he decided to be the exact replica of father with the exception of him being a feet taller. Thank God, his muscles are not like dad's, else his body will simply collapse from strain put on his body. I smirked deviously remembering the first time I met him at the orphanage. He was four years and Mom wanted another child; well to be precise, she was looking for someone who could keep Rory in check. I don't know what his problem was, his parents had trained him in every way possible, but he was proving to be a real scoundrel.


    'Good Afternoon Miss.' Marey said.

    'Oh hi, what can I do for you? The receptionist answered.

    'I wo- I would like to adopt a child.' Marey spoke shyly.

    Just then I caught sight of a little boy who was trying his best leave his parents' bosom when clearly being restrained by his father. I always hated rich white kids because a huge number of them were greatly spoilt and rude beyond measure. If I observed a family, I could tell if the current character displayed by a child was as a result of the parents' defiance, blaming them for it. However, that day wasn't my lucky day. Something was off about the connection in the family that came to visit, then I finally realized.

    They had looked round in search of a child to take when they landed on me. The other children were asleep; I wasn't exactly a fan afternoon naps, in fact, I detested it. So they met me sitting in the left corner of the first room cross-legged, and Mr. four years was busy trying different hand tricks to escape his father's grip while shouting on the top of his voice.

    'That's it! I've had heard enough. If you don' obey your father, I'ma come there and knock some sense into your brain.' I barked at him.

    My sadist's face had completed the job in case he still intended to continue his frenzy. The look on his face was as though he was faced with a demon, slowly he retreated to his father's back without uttering a single word. You can't imagine how pissed I was.

    And that was it, one week later, I found myself in a rich white family.

    <Flashback Ends>

    'I was only five then, but I was better than any twelve years old she had ever seen.' Mom would boast to her friends thus that earned me the popularity I wasn't ready for. How Rory hated me when I moved in but did he stand a chance against me? Bloody hell no! One glare and his shell shatter, it was so much fun. Too bad he quickly re-traced his steps, I really wanted to teach him a serious lesson.

    'You sure you wanna go school today, hon.' Mom inquired. 'You know they don't want you there, hon.' I smiled for a while. She really loves calling me that.

    "Well, not everyone. Just some boys who call themselves 'The Grand Total.' It's not like as if they can touch me anyway." I replied.

    'Oh really?'  She teased.

    'Are you kidding? They don't stand a chance!' Rory defended.

    'Who's the man!' Dad exclaimed.

    Soon we finished breakfast and did the dishes. We headed outside to meet whatever school would give us today.

    'You ready to lose?' Rory said about to enter his 2013 Ford Mustang GT500.

    How dare he compare my bike to his spotlight car! He'll lose in splendor. Climbing my 2017 Kawasaki Ninja H2R, I basically ignited my baby and the little roars gave him his answer.

    I could hear mom and dad laughing as they came out to the porch.

    'What healthy rivalry.' Dad commented.

    'Do be careful boys, it's a competition and not a death match.' Mom warned.

    'Si!' We shouted. That reminds me; we both like to infuse a little Spanish in some of our response. Rory started his car. And the race to school was set.





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