Chapter one

Camilla's POV 

When I was young, I used to believe in fairytales. I dreamed that I would meet my Prince Charming, find my dream job, have little ones, and live happily ever after. 

I even achieved one of my dreams. Well, it used to be one of my dreams, but now, I wish it had never come true. I am a nurse.

 I know you're wondering what the big deal is. I love my job, it's just that a few of the patients aren't really nice. Honestly, I am starting to believe it's because of my skin. 

Yes, I am black. Originally from Africa, but relocated to Alameda, California when a job opportunity was available.

This part of California in particular practiced racism. If I made a small mistake -no matter how small- the patients made a big deal of it. 

Lord help me! 

I still don't get why me or my fellow black peers are not seen like them!

"Are you even listening to me?" A blonde young woman screams at my face and I rolled my eyes. This woman had been on my case ever since I started working here. It's like people believe we are still meant to be on farms, planting crops for the white folk.

Guess what my mistake was this time. 

I hugged her son. He was crying and didn't want to take the injection the doctor instructed me to give him. After managing to inject him, I hugged him and soothed him with words, but then his annoyance of a mother walked in.

"Camilla or whatever your name is!"She yells storming in. "If you ever touch my son with those filthy hands of yours I will throw you into the shit pit your drug dealer friends or family are!" she continued shouting as I walked to my desk keeping my register in a place so this woman can't rip it into pieces. 

Yes, she has done it before.

I don't blame her for disliking me, -or to use better words- for hating me. 

Over here, most blacks are involved in illegal activities like selling hard drugs, creating havoc, and so on. But tell me, what do you expect us to do when we are treated like trash? When even though they sometimes smile at us, their thoughts are enough to plunge a hole in our heart? 

I could never stoop so low to indulge in such activities, not because of pride, but because I believe things will one day change.

I look around to see a lot of stares directed at me and Mrs.Olivia. Sad eyes probably feeling my pain and along with them the happy eyes enjoying what Mrs.Olivia was putting me through.

"Ma'am," I say clearing my throat. "you are creating a scene and making a lot of unnecessary noises which are disturbing the patients." The woman looks at me furiously and started to walk towards me. "You probably don't know what you look like. Maybe I should enlighten you. You look like cr...." I was cut short as I felt a sharp pain on my left cheek.

Before I could pull her fake hair from her head, the guards intervened, dragging her out and giving me the look of regret for not intervening sooner.

I cleaned the stray tears from my eyes because she was definitely not worth my tears. I wonder how she feels when she sits back to reflect on today's event. Does she feel remorse for her actions or she still sees me as that alien that isn't meant to be on planet earth?

 "Hi, bitch." I look up to see the person I love the most, my best friend Ashley.

I blink my eyes continuously so she wouldn't suspect anything, before looking at her with a smile on my face. "Ash."

She's nothing like Mrs. Olivia, the only thing she has in common with her is the color of her skin. Ash and Mrs. Olivia were not the best of friends and my best friend can easily rip her lungs if she wanted.

Ever since I came to California three years ago, she's had my back and helped me whenever I needed anything. I have been packed into her apartment for the last three months after she found out where I was living. The main center of hoodlums, but that was my only option; it was cheap.

"Why is there a mark on your face?" She ask checking my face intensely.

"Nothing, just a bruise I got at the start of the shift. " I changed the topic trying to brighten up my facial expression.

"You're not a very good liar you know?" I chuckle at her response. "But I'm going to let it go for now." She assures me furrowing her eyebrow. 

I could see she hid something behind her back, "What are you hiding?"

"Happy birthday Cam." She whisper-scream and handed me a wrapped box.

To be honest, I forgot today was my birthday. Ever since my ex-boyfriend went to jail, July was no longer my favorite month.

He was caught with drugs and harassed a policeman when he was being arrested, which didn't help his case. 

I'm glad I broke up with him before he was arrested though. I'm barely living the life I dreamt of and assisting an imprisoned boyfriend is not on my bucket list. His girlfriend or family can assist him with their money. 

"Thanks, Ash." I hug her unwrapping my gift to reveal an XPhone IV.

Oh my.

"You need to upgrade from that old phone you are using. It can't even browse, that's not a phone it's trash." She did not even try to hide her disdain for my old phone.

She was right though. When last did I go on my social pages? Was it three years ago?

I usually use her phone to scroll through social media and to feed my love for Shawn Mendes, the Canadian musician can never go away. No judgments. I made sure Ash downloaded all his latest music and guess what? She's a hardcore fan of Shawn too.

 "At least this baby can receive calls." I wiggle my now old phone on her face as she snorts at my response.

"Whatever. I installed social media and Beaver; the broadcast app. For the rally that is coming up." She beam as I turned on my new phone. Beaver, a new chance to freedom. Where you can share your opinions without anyone knowing your identity. I'm sure gonna help as much as I can.

Since no one wants to listen to a visible person. What about an unidentified person?

We talked a little before she headed to her desk to begin her shift. After I was sure she was occupied, I let one of those stray teardrops from my eyes as I take in what happened earlier, it was really hard for me to suppress my feelings but it's not hard to fake a smile to the world.

Before I continue my story, I would like you to know more about me and my wonderful best friend.

 My name is Camilla Jones, I am an African light-skinned girl. I am twenty-three years old. I have two siblings and have had an extreme love for ice cream ever since I was introduced at the age of two.

My best friend, Ashley Raul, is the best person anyone could ever wish for. She has two jobs. A nurse and babysitter sometimes. Since we're always paid monthly, she babysits to make money to retain herself before the month ends.