Holden Blog By: Dylan Radja

It was one Sunday afternoon when my family got news that a Negro was moving into the neighborhood. I didn't mind the Negroes much, but my family did not like Negroes. My father especially didn't like Negroes. I never understood why. I guess the hatred toward them originated from my father, spreading to my mother and even my younger brother. The next day after school I was interested in the reaction of the people in my neighborhood to the Negro family moving in, so I went to the house. Outside I saw a little black girl and a boy, the boy being my age, accompanied by their parents. I guess I felt bad for them since they looked so sad, having to live in this area, so I introduced myself. They seemed happy even thought I hardly did much, I guess the rest of my neighbors weren't too happy about them. But anyways I found an even stranger liking to the Negro boy. Although he was a Negro I still got along with him. He said he would be home-schooled but would want me to come over after school ended. I wanted to, but my parents wouldn't allow it. I ended up telling my parents I was going to my white friend, John's house, but actually going to Elijah's house. I went out nearly every day until one say my dad got suspicious of me and followed me there. After realizing what was going on, I wasn't allowed to leave the house anymore. My black friend, Elijah, was extremely sad to hear that, blaming himself for this tragedy. Although I tried to assure him that no one was to blame, he insisted that he was the cause. The morning after, right before school, I snuck out early to talk to him. When I arrived, Elijah's morher greeted me, trlling me Elijah was still fast asleep. Although it was unusual since he was a morning person, I thought nothing of it. I entered his room to find that he was nowhere in sight. I looked around to see if he was hiding from me, checking some places like under his bed, or behind his dresser. Until I looked looked everywhere but one place, the closet, I knew where he had to be. I opened the closet door and to my surprise I saw Elijah hanging dead. I was in shock and had no idea how to respond, so I told Elijah's family as soon as I could. Everyone was in complete shock and disbelief considering how happy he was just a day prior to this, except for my father. My father, after getting the news, said "good riddance." To this day, I consider my father a murderer.

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