Is this a good paper? I am writing it for a class project where we write eyewitness accounts in Social Studies. My event is the 16th Street Baptist Church Bombing during the civil rights movement. Do you think this is a good start??
Death is like a car crash. It hits you, but you ain’t necessarily physically injured. This is why I’ll never forget the day my sister died. No matter how hard I try, I’ll never, ever forget.
* * *
I was flipping through a magazine when Minnie burst through the door, carrying three fully-packed grocery bags in her arms and toting two toddlers behind her. I smiled at her, gave her a peck on the cheek and scooped up my babies.
“How are you today, Jilly?” I laid her down on the floor and tickled her. She squealed with delight, and I scooped her up into my arms. I looked down at Jack, and gave him a good tickle too. With a toddler in each arm, I went over and kissed Minnie as she put down the bags of groceries. I chuckled as I heard the twins simultaneously go “Eww!”. Minnie rolled her eyes. I dropped them onto the floor and tickled them a little more.
“I’m going to start dinner. Watch the twins, honey.” She said.
“’Kay, honey—” I turned around and raised an eyebrow to the kids “—Watch out! It’s the TICKLE MONSTER!!” I yelled as they squealed and I ran after them.
It was later that night when Minnie brought it up. She was putting the twins to bed while I was setting up the bed for us. Little Jill had brought up memories with her curly hair. It reminded me of my sister, Denise, who was long gone. Minnie must have noticed it, because she asked me what was bothering me.
“Minnie, honey, you know I love you. You’re the best wife and mother I’ve ever known. But there are some things that, well, come up from our pasts that we can’t avoid. The inevitable stuff, you know? Well, that’s what happened today, but it was with our Jilly. I couldn’t stand it, but it wasn’t my choice.” I started to get a little teary eyed. She sat down next to me and put her arms around me.
“What happened, baby? Will you talk about it, or is it too hard for you?” She whispered gently into my ears, as I slumped over onto the bed. I turned over and stared up at the ceiling.
“It was a long time ago. I was fourteen, and my sister was eleven. She was one of the children killed in the 16th Street Baptist Church bombing.” I sighed, and she put her hand over her mouth.
“I had no idea! Honey, I’m so sorry. Were you there?”
“Yes.” And I slipped into the memory as easily as oil.
* * *
“Get ready, Sleet! We ain’t got much time! We gots to get your sister to church on time. You know she’s performin’!” Momma screeched out from bathroom. She was fixing little Niecie’s hair up pretty for the sermon. Her smile was bigger than half the moon. I smiled at her, and watched as Momma fussed over her hair.
“No, no, no! Braids just ain’t gonna work. I gots an idea! How about curls? Curls’ll look right pretty.” She smiled and started to get the curlers out.
“Oh, stop fussin’, Maxine! She gonna wear a costume anyways. Don’t matter much. You’re gonna make us late!” Daddy scowled, but ended up smiling as he saw just how pretty Denise looked.
“Chris, if you want to make it go faster, whyn’t you come over here and do it yourself? Besides, she gonna go to Sunday School first.” She raised an eyebrow at Daddy, and he cracked up.
“Alright, alright, Maxine. You just keep doing what you’re doing.” They smiled at each other. I pulled on my Sunday shoes and straightened my tie. Daddy did the same, and we sat down and waited for Momma and Denise to be done.
“I can’t wait for Addie Mae to see my curls, Momma! She’ll love them!” Denise squealed. Momma’s smile cracked wide, and she spread it about the whole house. We were so proud of our little Niecie. She’d be performing a sermon, after all. Her and twenty-five other children. Denise would be performing “The Love That Forgives”.
“Hurry up, Chris! We’s gonna be late for real, now! Niecie’s gotta prepare for her performance, you know! I didn’t do them curls for nothing!” She laughed as Daddy dove into the car, scuffing the edge of his Sunday shoes. Me and Denise laughed too.
* * *
“Niecie, c’mon, you’re gonna be late for the sermon, silly!” I shouted to her. She was playing in the front yard at the church with Addie Mae. Addie was squealing and showing Niecie with compliments. Her curls were downright dashy.
“We don’t have all the time in the world for those curls, Niecie! Hurry up an’ get inside!” I smiled as she crossed her arms and pouted at me, so I picked her up and carried her inside. She laughed the whole way there.
“See you at rehearsal, Niecie!” Addie Mae waved and headed towards one of the doors leading into the basement. I walked Niecie in, dropped her off with Momma, and walked back outside for a moment. I watched a turquoise car drive up to the front steps. A white man stepped out, and I ran back inside. As I glanced back, I saw him stick something under the steps. I
