Shaquette's+folktale+=)

Shaquette Jones

Folktale Story. There once was a boy named Markeith, he lived on the poor side of Washington DC. The streets were dirty; there were abandoned houses on every corner. But it was a lot safer in the day than at night. Markeith was not a very handsome boy, he was very thin and tall, he had terrible acne all over his body. He hated his life. The other 17 year olds in his neighborhood had girlfriends or boyfriends, and were always at parties.

He was nothing like his twin brother Marcell. Markeith was constantly ridiculed at school by the other teenagers, Marcell even picked on him from time to time. But that was nothing compared to what he had to go through while he was at home. His father was a very large and abusive man, with big hands and very curly thick hair. He would hit and beat on Markeith for no reason at all sometimes, but he would never lay a finger on Marcell.

The only time Markeith was happy was when his mother came home from work. His mother Maria was a very small and kind woman. She would do anything for her two boys. She was the most beautiful woman in the world to Markeith, she had gray eyes also, but you could never see them because they were always black and blue from the beatings that her husband gave her on a regular basis.

Markeith prayed and prayed that things would get better; he prayed that his father would stop beating him and his mother, he prayed that he looked more like his brother so people would stop picking on him, but most of all he wished that his own brother would stop picking on him. But after years and years of saying the same prayer every night and seeing no changes, he finally gave up on there being a God.

Markeith was skipping school one day, and he saw a house that he never knew was there, It had an open sign with bright red letters, so he walked in. And the moment he stepped foot in the door something came over him, it made him feel powerful, It was odd, but he liked it. He looked up and saw this short woman with a very large nose and a huge mole on the side of her face staring at him. “Did you feel that” she asked. “Yes, I could get used to that” said Markeith in a voice he didn’t recognize as his. There was a mirror across the room, he walked over and look in it. He didn’t see his regular thin pimpled faced self. But instead he was a handsome 17 year old with confidence and clear skin.

“What did you do to me?” he asked the gypsy. “I helped you see the real you” she replied with a smirk. “You may leave now, I saw you struggling and I saw your hurt, so I helped you. But you may never come back to this store, I helped you this once, there might be a fee the next time” said the gypsy and walked away. Markeith walked out of the house feeling like a new man.

As he walked up the block he noticed that girls that would never even look twice at him were smiling and saying hi. He bumped into his friend Imoni, she was the only person and girl to look past his outer appearance, she would always ask how his day was going, and would give him hugs. Markeith would think she was flirting with him, but would quickly come to the conclusion that she was just being nice because she felt sorry for him. But this was the new Markeith, he wasn’t going to avoid eye contact, or mumble when he spoke to her. He held his head up high and said “What’s up Moni?” this was language he never used before. She replied with a “hey” and a hug as usual and went about her day.

As Markeith arrived home his father was sitting on the couch with a beer in his hand. Markeith knew it was going to be trouble just from the look in his father’s eyes. “Why wont you at school today punk??” his father said with a slur. “Why do you care?” he replied. And before he knew it there was a beer can in his face. He cried out in pain “OUCHH”. He jumped across the room and onto his father and punched him until he was too tired to even hit anymore. There was blood all his fathers face and his shirt.

Markeith got up smiling and ran out of the house. He went straight to the gypsy’s old dirty house, busted open the door and said “I WANT HIM DEAD” she was standing in front of the door smiling as if she was waiting for him. “It will come with a serious price” she snickered. “I DON’T CARE, JUST DO IT! I KNOW YOU CAN!” he replied with tears in his eyes but still a wicked smile on his face. “Don’t be greedy, your greed will get the best of you” she said with a more serious look. “DO IT!” he screamed again. “Your wish is my command” said the gypsy. And as soon as the words left her mouth Markeith felt weak and passed out.

When he awaken he found that he was in his bed and he heard crying coming from his moms room. So he rushed out of bed and ran to his mother’s side. She kept crying “he’s dead, he’s oh lord he’s dead!” Markeith smiled to himself, and replied “Who? Dad?” “Yes” replied a sobbing a Maria. “But this is good news ma, he wont ever hit you anymore” said Markeith wondering why his mother was to distraught. “I know dear, but when your father drove his car over the bridge, your brother was with him, MY BABY IS DEAD! MARCELL IS GONE!” Maria was crying so hard now that she couldn’t even breathe. “Im going to make it better momma, I swear.” And with that said he walked out the house, and went straight to the gypsy. “TAKE IT BACK! TAKE IT ALL BACK!” he cried. “I DON’T WANT TO SE MY MOTHER HURT ANYMORE! PLEASE!” but the gypsy just looked down at him while he was on his knee’s crying and begging. “But you said that you really wanted him dead” she said. “I told you not to be greedy” “BUT YOU KILLED MY BROTHER!” replied Markeith still on his knee’s crying. “Do you really want your brother back? Are you ready for the aftermath of your decision?” “YES, YES PLEASE, JUST BRING HIM BACK!” cried Markeith. “Your wish is my command” chanted the gypsy.

Markeith had that funny feeling again, and before he knew it; he was passed out. When he woke up he found himself in his mother’s bed, and it was very dark. He ran downstairs and was relieved to find his brother on the couch in a black and white suit. “Hey Keith, I see your feeling better, or maybe that was just a lie not to go to the funeral” said Marcell with a smirk on his face. Markeith ran to him and stared hugging him and realized how much he loved his brother. “stop your going to get pimple juice all over my jacket!” said Marcell, but he didn’t stop hugging him. //Pimple Juice// Markeith thought. He let his brother go and ran to the mirror in the hall. He saw that his nasty pimples were back and hair was still a curly mess. But Markeith was okay with that. He had his brother and his mother by his side. And nothing was going to hurt them again.