Chapter 4

I softly knocked on the door. "Natalie?" I asked. "Come in." She answered. I nervously opened the door. "Good morning, Primrose." She said cheerfully. She was making the bed. "You don't have to do that." She really didn't have to. "No, it's okay. I like to make my bed. So when I come home, its all nice and prepared for slumber." She plopped down on the bed. "It seems that you have something on your mind, Primrose. Do tell." She patted the spot next to her and I sat down. "Natalie, I recently found out that my mom is racist."  She was silent for a while. "Is that why she has been giving me so many dirty looks?" She asked. "I'm afraid so, Natalie. I'm incredibly sorry for her behavior." Tears began to fall down her cheeks. I wiped the tears and kissed her cheek. She began to cry into my shirt. I got a couple of tear stains on it, but I didn't care. I just held her and rubbed her back. I didn't realize how fragile she was. It deeply upsetted me that my own mother said all those racist remarks. She's the one who taught us to see people, not colors! But what pissed me off the most is that everyone is  just going along with it. When I thought about it, I just held her tighter. 

Mom had made omelets for breakfast, but I didn't have much of an appetite. Mom plopped down plates in front everyone except Natalie.  She made her come and get it herself. "Ugh, what a bitch."  I thought. No one really talked during breakfast. Paige kept trying to strike up conversation with Natalie, so it wouldn't be so awkward. "So, Natalie." Paige began. Natalie lifted her gaze from her plate. "What part of London are you from?" She asked. "East London." Natalie replied quietly. "I'm sorry, Natalie, what did you say?" Mom said. She was doing this on purpose. "East London." She replied louder. "What part exactly?" Mom asked. Natalie replied with grit in her voice. "Hackney. Clapton."  Everyone knew that Hackney wasn't exactly the best part of London. "Oh, that's a terrible area. You must be a hood." Mom said while shoving some of her omelet in her mouth. Natalie got up from the table and ran out of the kitchen. I could see the tears forming in her eyes. "What the hell, Mom!" I yelled and ran after her. She began to cry once more and I rubbed her back again. 

I decided to take Natalie shopping to help her get her mind off what happened this morning. We went to Rue 21, Wet Seal, Forever 21, etc. These are the outfits I got her.

http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/collection?id=2837699

After I took her shopping, we had yummy pepperoni pizza at California Pizza Kitchen.  Then we saw "We're The Millers" at the movies and headed home. I was reluctant to go home. I had so much fun with Natalie, and I didn't want to deal with my mom. When we arrived home, Natalie put her clothes away and mom called me downstairs. I slugged downstairs and sat down at the table. "Prim . . ." "Mom, I don't want to hear it not only what you said was wrong, but it was racist." "Prim, I'm not racist." "Your not racist? Coon? Fog nigger? Jigaboo? I heard EVERYTHING you said in the kitchen. Mom, you taught to see people, not color. But you have the audacity, to say all those things about Natalie? I-I'm done." I slammed the door to the kitchen and walked upstairs.