Well, this is it – the conclusion of "Silence Is Violence". This marks my first ever story completion that wasn't a one-shot, which is a significant milestone in my journey. I would like to thank AppalledWriter, Latinofan, Zabuza Monichi23 and all my amazing guests for their reading, constructive thoughts and support. I hope you will continue to read and support my upcoming projects, which are listed on my profile.
AW: I'm glad you enjoyed this chapter. Olivia's bravery – or stupidity, depending on how you look at it, is very much driven by guilt. Growing up in a conservative family has caused her to develop an over-scrupulous nature, where she tends to fixate on her flaws, and she feels ashamed I've her failure to stand up for Brianna. Also, she has been feeling rather melancholic after the passing of her grandfather, and she remembers fondly the actions he took during the war. These two emotions combined to instil a fierce sense of protection and righteous anger into our Italian friend. As for her and Isaiah, their bond growing stronger is very much on the cards. After all, you don't go through something like that and not have it affect you. By no means are the Serpents finished yet. Don't forget, they still have former Hydra people on their side. Their role in the future will be made clear in the epilogue. I'm glad you liked how Carrie and Peter voiced their support for the cause, and not just in battle. MJ has been very instrumental in challenging them to look outside their own prisms and expanding their world views. Maxine and Quinn will definitely show up in the GG crossover – after all, they've got a friend of their own coming back to New York, and a friend that Carrie and they have in common. Nakia and Shuri know more than anybody what desperate people can do – reaching out to the Jabari tribe for their help for example. Their words carry poignancy because of Killmonger's plan in Black Panther. Imagine somebody with the anger of Brianna or the protective elder brother Jamal (or even an ally like Olivia) with a weapon as powerful as one of Nakia's blades. Not saying they would use it, but some food for thought. I'm glad you enjoyed the Obie cameo – I look forward to watching the first part of GG and engaging with the characters.
Guest: Well, you know MJ – she's not going to be silent when she sees her man in danger. Her demeanour in this scene was inspired in part by Eva Green's Artemisia from 300: Rise Of An Empire. The attitude of not being there as a witness and actually getting their hands dirty in the fighting makes both of these women very strong and compelling.
Guest #2: Well, here they are! Certainly Carrie and her friends contributions won't stop with a protest. Nakia's challenge to Carrie and Danielle was a salient reminder of that fact.
Guest #3: Well spotted! I hadn't watched any of the GG reboot when I wrote that bit, so I just based it off the best Google Image search of Obie I could find. I look forward to starting the Carrie/GG crossover and having Carrie interact with those characters. (I already have plans for her and Audrey, Julien, Monet and Aki.)
Epilogue
SEVEN MONTHS LATER
Gloved hands pushed a shopping cart around the supermarket aisles. At the bread bin, another set of gloved hands grabbed four full bags of brown bread and placed them in the cart. A third pair reached up and grabbed several bottles of water, whilst a fourth gathered up several cans of non-perishable food like beans, tuna, cereal, rice and spam. The people doing the shopping were none other than Carrie, Peter, MJ, Alexis and Cat. It had been seven long months since their intended peaceful protest had devolved into the Battle Of The Serpents, and the telekinetic and her friendship circle were putting into action the lessons they had learned on racial and social inequality. Winter, especially during these current time, was especially trying for a lot of people. MJ and Peter were disturbed to find that a black-owned food bank in Queens, which served many of the borough's poorest residents, was running low on supply. People starving during winter was an unconscionable prospect for them both, as it was for the other three young women. Helping to supply this minority owned business was the group's own way of fighting systemic inequality.
After they had reached the checkout and paid, they put the groceries into the trunk of Alexis' father's Honda Civic, which the blonde was borrowing. Once they were all in the car and masked up, Alexis put the route to the food bank into the car's GPS.
"Okay. The food bank is on 193rd Street. We'll just follow Hillside Avenue until we get there." Alexis informed the group. The car was started and eased out of the snow-filled supermarket car park and drove down Hillside, carefully navigating the wintry conditions. As the car's heating, their warm clothes and their masks served to warm the occupants of the vehicle. A news bulletin began to play over the radio.
"Our top story this hour: the two Neo-Nazis who admitted to kidnapping YouTube blogger Danielle "DJ Dani" Horton are set to be sentenced today at the Bronx Criminal Court. Sisters Wendy and Kimberley Briggs, ringleaders of the white supremacist gang known as HKS, pleaded guilty to charges of second degree kidnapping in November – a surprising development given the sisters earlier desire to go to trial. The sibling's uncle, convicted murderer Hunter Briggs, died in prison recently after a lengthy battle with, and complications from, pneumonia."
"Good fucking riddance." Cat fumed, drawing nods of agreement.
"The case has been marred by a jurisdictional conflict between the District Attorneys in Bronx County and Westchester County. The Bronx County DA's Office initially took charge of the case, seeing that Horton was taken mere feet away from the very courthouse where the defendants are to be sentenced, and filed kidnapping and attempted murder charges. However, the Westchester County authorities argued that the Bronx County Office had no authority to file attempted murder charges, citing that the end point of the plot, the intended murder or Horton, took place in Yonkers, placing it within the jurisdiction of Westchester County. The State Supreme Court sided with the Bronx County Office, finding that the attempted murder of the blogger was a result offence stemming from her abduction in Bronx County. The Westchester County DA has since filed aggravated robbery and assault charges against Wendy Briggs in relation to an incident at a halal food market in Mamaroneck, New York, in December 2018. This incident is being prosecuted as a hate crime."
"You know, I have my differences with the holy mall rat, but I'm glad that Danielle's going to get some closure and justice. But that just speaks to the need for justice reform – it shouldn't take the freaking State Supreme Court to decide where a trial should be held!" MJ seethed in indignation.
"Agreed. While they were doing all this, Dani had nightmares and PTSD. And that was just the things she chose to share with us." Carrie agreed, vociferously.
"Staying with the crime beat, an officer accused of brutality and corruption has been removed from the force. Sergeant Brandon Fields was suspended by the NYPD's Bureau Of Internal Affairs after an investigation revealed he took bribes from the Chinese Triads to investigate and arrest their competition. Fields has maintained his innocence and intends to appeal. Fields is also facing a civil suit from the family of Isaiah Evans, who accuse the officer of shooting him with a rubber bullet during the George Floyd protests this past summer, temporarily blinding him in one eye."
"Wooo! Livy's jaw didn't die in vain!" Alexis cheered, clapping her hands.
"In other news, Stark Industries has announced the foundation of a new scholarship for African-Americans. The scholarship, known as the Percy Julian Award, will be awarded to black high school students who display a particular skill and affinity for science and technology. The scholarships will not only provide full college funding, but will also include opportunities to work with Tony Stark himself as well as several top scientists from Wakanda, as the long hidden African nation continues its international outreach. The first recipients of the award are set to be announced in the spring."
"If this doesn't get Ned pumped, nothing will!" Peter declared, excited for his friend.
Eventually, they arrived at the Samaritans Food Bank on 193rd Street. A small, humble building, the only thing distinguishing it from the houses around it was the sign out front. Opening the doors, Carrie held Peter's hand as he gingerly exited the vehicle. Even though he had recovered from the injuries he had sustained during the Battle Of The Serpents, he still was walking gingerly, especially in wintry conditions. He had spent the last few months either on crutches or in a brace after knee surgery, which was a daunting prospect for someone so young. Whilst caution was the best policy right now, his condition was improving all the time, with Bruce being extremely hopeful that he would be able to start light training exercises with the ultimate goal of returning to his full capacity as Spiderman.
"Easy, Peter. You're okay." The telekinetic reassured, grasping his hand.
"Yeah. I'm okay." Peter nodded, as he steadied himself. The web slinger then gently withdrew his hand from Carrie's, as if to say "I've got this." Smiling with her eyes, Carrie nodded and joined her brother and walking slowly over to the trunk and grabbing hold of several bags of groceries. The duo went on to join Alexis, Cat and MJ, who were making the trek into the food bank to drop off their bounty. They were greeted by the proprietor, a kindly looking middle-aged African-American woman, wearing a winter hat and coat with a blue mask.
"Oh, bless your hearts! Thank you all so much!" She praised, tearfully. "You don't know how much this means to us at the food bank. People have been coming in all day with food. This means we can still supply those that we serve."
"It was the least we could do. The idea of our fellow Queens residents starving in winter is repugnant, and doubly so now." MJ replied, honestly.
"Plus, this is a minority owned business. It was a no-brainer for us to help." Cat added, as Alexis nodded enthusiastically.
"Well, thank you all anyway. We can't operate as we'd like without the kindness of strangers." The proprietor declared, her voice filled with passion for her community.
"And you know what would get more help? If somebody raised awareness." MJ announced, fixing her boyfriend with a meaningful look.
"Maybe more than one somebody." Alexis chipped in, locking eyes on Carrie.
"We're on it, we're on it!" Peter laughed, as he took out his cellphone and began to type. Bidding farewell, the group returned to the car and drove Carrie and Peter back to the Avengers Tower. The route took just over an hour to traverse by car, going through the Queens suburbs of Jamaica, Peter's spiritual home of Forest Hills, Elmhurst and Astoria before crossing into Manhattan. Bidding farewell, the two siblings underwent their health check from Friday before being allowed into the main part of the tower.
"You okay, Carrie? Peter?" Tony questioned.
"Yeah, Dad. Heard about your new scholarship on the radio. I think Ned's going to go all out for it." Peter replied.
"Yeah, it's a really good idea." Carrie agreed. "And I know Lieutenant Rhodes will agree with me."
"You don't know how much it means to me to hear you say that." Tony smiled. "Speaking of big announcements, I have something that I'd like to talk with you about some time soon."
*** BLM ***
Danielle sat on the hard, wooden bench of the courtroom. A knot formed in her stomach, as she held a sheet of paper. The brunette had always hated courtrooms. After all, it was in this very courthouse that her life had reached its nadir, where she had pleaded guilty to vandalising the synagogue with Wendy and Kimberley and had found herself shipped off to youth detention. It was a nasty and unpleasant shock to the system – and one that she thoroughly deserved. However, her year-long incarceration was the best thing that had ever happened to Danielle. Being locked up lead to her doing some serious soul-searching. Danielle quickly began to hate herself – in fact, she thought she was a monster. However, a small group of born-again Christian inmates had taken her under their wing. They, along with the facility's chaplain, had taught the brunette all about the Bible, Jesus, God's unending love and mercy and the unconditional forgiveness He offered to all repentant sinners. One night, in the darkness of her cell, Danielle gave her life to Christ and vowed to repair the damage – both physical and emotional – she had caused by her words and actions. This marked the start of her journey to find redemption. The brunette would reconcile herself with her parents and the Jewish community (although the more cynical side of her would argue that her relationship with Thomas was doomed). She ultimately came into full communion with the Catholic Church, where her faith felt most complete.
Looking to the other side of the courtroom, she saw Wendy and Kimberley seated at the defendant's table. Accompanied by their lawyers, they were dressed in drab grey jail uniforms and wearing disposable masks. They had been held at the infamous Rikers Island jail as they awaited trial and sentencing. Danielle had never set foot in the facility dubbed the home of New York's Boldest – corrections officers. However, her brief stint in juvie had quickly strengthened her resolve to never do so. Danielle could tell from her captors slumped shoulders and creased brows that their time in the infamous jail had left them the worse for wear.
"And now I understand that Miss Horton wishes to deliver her victim impact statement before I pass sentence." The judge, a Hispanic man in his fifties, announced.
"Thank you, Your Honour." The brunette nodded, as she got up from her seat and approached a small podium with a microphone that had been set up for her use. The blogger had traded in her usual tomboyish look for a more formal attire. She wore a smart white dress shirt and a long dark blue dress that reached below her knees. Looking conspicuous in all of this was the white KN95 mask she wore. The way it fitted over her nose and mouth caused a sharp point to stick out, making her look like a bird. Shuffling the papers of her speech in her hand, Danielle said a silent prayer to the Lord for the necessary strength. Breathing deeply, the brunette began to address her former captors.
"When Your Honour asked me if I wanted to give a victim impact statement at this hearing, I confess I was torn. I hate the idea of being thought of as a victim. Over the last seven months, I've had family, friends and members of my YouTube and church families treat me with kid gloves. Like I will shatter into a million pieces if they even mention what happened to me. Initially, I thought speaking here today would give credence to the thought that I deserve or want pity. However, what moved me to speak here today was the thought of finally, mercifully, putting an end to the most difficult period of my life. And maybe, just maybe, share the hope of better things.
First, I would like to address that night in the Bronx in 2016. Three of us decided to damage that synagogue – but only one of us suffered any consequences. I alone am responsible for my choices. However, you are responsible for presenting my clouded and darkened soul with the notion that such an appalling act could be a legitimate choice. Whilst I languished in a detention cell, you got away scot free and started to plan more crimes, more acts of hate and the infliction of even more suffering on innocent people. However, as I have said numerous times, being caught and facing the just punishment was the best thing that ever happened to me. It made me realise I didn't want to turn into you.
Now, onto the subject of my kidnapping. The psychological impact of what you did to me is still being worked through. I slept with the lights on for a long time after that, and sometimes still do. I had great difficulty in trying to leave my house for a couple of months. Every time I hear a door slam, it takes me right back to being locked in that trunk. Whenever I lean up against a wall, I remember your gun poking right into my back. Sometimes I think about all the experiences you could have deprived me of. Graduation, college, serving the Lord through my vocation, meeting my friends, serving others…you could have put all that to rest with one squeeze of a trigger. Sometimes, I wonder if living with all this is worth it.
How does this all make me feel? If the court will pardon my language, it makes me fucking angry. I'm angry that you tried to prey on my rebellious and broken soul. I'm angry that you made me think you ever cared about me. I'm angry that your actions have traumatised me. I'm angry that you seduced me into becoming a criminal. I'm angry that your actions have forced me into the courtroom and the therapist's couch, in an adolescence that has already been defined by courtrooms and therapy. I've been so angry with you both for so long.
And yet, I have no choice but to forgive and love you anyway. The only reason I am able to stand here today and not be an absolute mess is because of the amazing power of Jesus Christ. It is to Him that I give all the credit and the glory. It is He who pulled me out of my bad situation, gave me a clean new heart, washed away my sins and surrounded me with positive influences to my life. But most important of all, it was Jesus who taught me how to love people. And so, I just want to say to you, Wendy and Kimberley, that I love you both. And I forgive you. It is hard to love someone who has done the things that you have done. Who has done the things that I have done. But I am called to forgive you, no matter what. Because the choices are either to love you now, when it is hard, or to always harbour hate and resentment. And the cost of not forgiving is just too high.
Lastly, I want to address your futures. The man who fed you those lies is dead. He has now received what he is due for his actions in this life. I make no judgements about his eternal fate – I leave that up to God. But if there was one wish I have for your futures, it is this – that you repent of your wickedness. Repent. Cry out to God for forgiveness. Accept Jesus Christ as Lord, as I did. His blood will wipe your slate clean and give you a new start. He died to save me from what I deserve, and He can save you as well. For whoever calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved."
Inhaling and exhaling, Danielle finished her statement. As she turned away from the podium to return to her seat, the judge shuffled his papers. As the brunette took her place next to Amira, who rubbed her shoulders in comfort, the judge cleared his throat and prepared to deliver his sentence. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Kimberley holding her head in her hands as Wendy wiped her eyes with a Kleenex. It was now apparent that the two kidnappers were coming to the same realisation that Danielle had come to whilst in juvie – that they had ruined their lives with hate and lies. The judge was very stern and to the point as he addressed the offenders.
"During this process, I have heard testimonials regarding the character of the defendants from their attorneys, as well as people who knew them as children. Many could not believe that two children they saw as bright and optimistic would resort to committing such crimes. They have asked me to take your family circumstances into account, which involved what appears to be a wave of indoctrination into extremist ideology. Whilst I am not unsympathetic to this, there is one salient fact that hangs over the defendants – they are not children, or even teenagers, any more. They are adults who planned and carried out a very serious crime. Kidnapping carries a mandatory prison term in this state, so that you will be incarcerated is not in question. I have taken all prevailing factors into account in deciding the defendant's sentences.
First, I will turn to Wendy Briggs. The facts of the case point to you being the ringleader of this plot. You obtained the blessing of your uncle, a known white supremacist; you had gathered weapons and restraints, and you had devised a plan to destroy evidence after the deed was done. This displays a clear element of premeditation. Other aggravating factors include statements that indicated you took pleasure in the deaths of others, as well as a lack of clear remorse for your actions. The plaintiff may believe that your little emotional display means your heart has been softened. However, I am under no such illusion. Your behaviour makes you a clear and present threat to public safety. Wendy Briggs, on the count of second degree kidnapping, I commit you to the Department Of Corrections and sentence you to no less than six years but no more than 20 years in prison.
Now, I turn to Kimberley Briggs. At first glance, the facts of the case seem to present some mitigating factors. Among these factors are a stated reluctance to follow your uncle's hateful ideology, as well as attempts to persuade your sister to spare the plaintiff's life. However, the fact remains that you still went along with Wendy's crimes when push came to shove. You managed to briefly radicalise the plaintiff and persuaded her into performing an act of vandalism inspired by religious hatred, then planned to kidnap and murder her when she spoke out against her past actions and people like yourself. It is the greatest pity that your sense of conscience did not kick in sooner. Kimberley Briggs, on the count of second degree kidnapping, I sentence you to no less than four but no more than 12 years in prison.
Both of these sentences are to be served at the Bedford Hills Correctional Facility for Women in Bedford Hills. I believe you can be rehabilitated – the plaintiff in this case is living proof. However, I live my life by the saying "trust but verify". Therefore, I am ordering that completion of a de-radicalisation programme be made a condition of any granting of parole. We are adjourned."
With a bang of his gavel, the judge closed the case. Danielle let out a deep breath that she didn't realise she had been holding. Her nightmare was finally over. It was a nightmare caused by her own poor choices, including crime, imprisonment, probation, and a desperate attempt to seal her juvenile record, away from the eyes of the public. Nothing could ever erase what she had done, and nothing could erase the injustice of her being locked up whilst Wendy and Kimberley were free to cause more havoc. However, things were starting to turn around. Her kidnappers had been bought to justice, her juvenile record had been sealed early last year, meaning that prospective employers would not – and could not – take her moment of madness into account. She had created a new persona, both in public and in private, and was looking forward to her future, by the grace of God. The nearly five year long dark chapter of her life was now officially closed – and the brunette couldn't be happier.
"You okay, darling?" Amira asked, noticing tears forming in her daughter's eyes.
"Yeah, Mum. I'm just so relieved this is finally over." Danielle sighed, as she wiped her eyes with a handkerchief. Her attention was drawn to the other side of the courtroom, where she saw Wendy and Kimberley being led away by two masked bailiffs. "There but for the grace of God go I." She whispered, meaningfully. Danielle praised the Lord every day for delivering her from hate and resentment. She shuddered as she imagined a world where she had fallen into her kidnapper's grasp – a world where she was being led away to prison for hurting, or God forbid, killing someone else.
"Come on. We'll have some ice cream at home." Amira offered, placing her daughter's hand in her own and leading her out of the courtroom.
Later that night, Daria Stephens put in her headphones and made sure her Zoom connection was established. Once she had done so, she set up her webcam so that it was able to record. Once that was completed, she pressed record and began to record another episode of Web Of Justice for her channel. This was an interview that had been seven months in the making, and it was of vital importance that everything go off without any hitches.
"Whose power is it? Ours! This is Daria S, coming at you from the depths of the Boogie Down, with another episode of Web Of Justice! Stories by the people, for the people! Tonight, my guest is somebody that's never appeared on this channel before. This is somebody who I met at the Black Lives Matter protests this past summer. I only knew her a few hours, and yet, over the course of that afternoon, she proved herself to be one of the most selfless people I have ever met. It has been a real pleasure getting to know her virtually over the last few months. In many, many ways, we could not be more different from one another. However, at our core, I believe we are the same – two girls who want to make the world a better place. She's a YouTuber, a singer, a self-proclaimed prayer warrior and a loyal servant of the Kingsbridge and Kingsbridge Heights communities. Fresh off the sentencing hearing of the two bitches who snatched her, ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce Danielle Horton a.k.a. DJ Dani!" The African-American introduced her guest.
"Hey there, Daria!" Danielle smiled and waved through her webcam, which was being displayed in a window on the lower left side of the screen. "First of all, I want to say thank you for all the love, support and prayers I've received over the last little while – not just from followers of my channel, but from people who followed you, Valentina, Demetrius or random strangers. There were days immediately after when I just didn't want to get out of bed, and knowing that there were people out there rooting for me just meant so much."
"Anyway, as I mentioned, the women that kidnapped you were sentenced today, and they will serve up to 20 years in prison. How do you feel now that the case is resolved?" Daria inquired.
"Relief, honestly. During the initial stages, I was feeling a lot of anxiety. Especially during the issue over jurisdiction. Just the idea of going back to the city where I was almost murdered filled me with dread. And this was on top of the general trauma I was experiencing during that period." Danielle explained.
"I was impressed by your ability to remain calm when confronting your kidnappers. Many people would have let their emotions overwhelm them." The journalist noted.
"I actually felt inspired by the examples of my mother Amira and the Jewish community. When I was in juvie, my folks and I sat down with the rabbi of the synagogue I had damaged. The shame I felt over what I had done caused me to dread that encounter. However, he showed me grace and mercy whilst explaining the impact my actions had caused. That made me want to develop empathy towards their experience and to change myself for the better. In hindsight, I believe that meeting set me on the path to becoming a Christian." The brunette recalled, in a ponderous voice.
"Some of my subscribers wanted me to ask you how you would respond to those who accuse you of essentially normalising hate by making a nice career as a YouTuber out of what you yourself called vile and despicable actions. I mean, you can't exactly deny that your popularity stems in no small part from your honesty." Daria probed.
"Well, Daria, I didn't exactly plan it. I guess the best response is that honesty is the best policy. One of the things I love about the Sacrament of Penance is it leaves you blameless before the Lord when you are absolved. All sins confessed to the priest cannot be used by the ultimate accuser, Satan, against you at the judgement. I guess that idea of not having my past actions weaponised against my family or myself was a big motivator. It was better to be honest with my audience from the get go and let them dictate how things played out rather than keep it a secret. If people told me to basically go away, it would be God's way of telling me not to waste my time with this venture. But the support I received for wanting to change, but most importantly for my honesty, was immensely gratifying. If it looked like I was using my crime to get Internet clout, I sincerely apologise. That was not my intention. I vow to use my voice and my platform to condemn hate and to warn young people away from extremism. That's the only thing I can do." Danielle answered, truthfully.
"Now, Danielle, I understand that you've got some pieces of news you want to share." Daria prompted.
"Yes, I do." Danielle confirmed. "Firstly, I'm excited – well, excited is probably the wrong word given the subject matter – and proud to announce that I have recorded a PSA for the Department of Justice's "Don't Be The Lesson" campaign. It's part of a series that shows the consequences of hate crimes for those that commit them. I'll have to live with what I did for the rest of my life. I have to serve as an example to others. I don't want to be the lesson, and I wish I could take back what I did. But I can't, and this advertisement makes it clear that those consequences are forever. The campaign kicks off in the spring."
"Well, that sounds interesting and inspiring. Can't wait to see it!" Daria responded, a tiny smile crossing her face.
"Second of all, I'm happy to announce that I'll be joining W.O.J's "Masks For Mental Health" drive. Nobody likes them, but there's nothing more important right now than a good mask." The brunette pointed out. She then reached over and put on a blue disposable mask. "I've got several of these…" Removing it, the blogger then put on her purple and yellow LSU mask. "I wear this to rep my school." Taking that off, Danielle then put on the grand daddy of them all – the white KN95 mask she had worn to the sentencing. "But I like this one the best. It has a good filter on it. Which brings me to the realisation that many in the Black community don't have access to quality masks, or even masks at all. The whole debacle I described earlier and the aftermath caused me to feel acutely aware of my white privilege, and the events of the past summer just made it even more so. It's nothing less than my moral duty as a Catholic Christian to ensure that I do whatever I can to close that gap. Believe it or not, this isn't the only KN95 my family has – we have a surplus due to Dad's mall job which is still furloughed. After getting permission from my folks, I'm going to join you in distributing them this coming weekend. It's charity at its best – in support of a worthy cause. Isn't that right, Daria?" Danielle questioned, as she removed her mask.
"It's a worthy cause indeed – for every mask sold, Web Of Justice will donate $5 to the Black Mental Health Alliance. Naturally, it's important to protect the physical health of our people, and even more so now. But it's just as important that communities of colour get assistance from looking after their mental health, which many seem to have forgotten." Daria responded, honestly. "And I know mental health is an important issue to you as well, Dani."
"Yes. Sometimes when you've been through a traumatic experience, it's easy to forget that there are other people hurting. For example, I'll never forget you and your friends reactions to me being taken. You were in need of healing just as much as I was. And I know that communities of colour have a harder time than most when it comes to accessing health services. That's one of the reasons why I'm so enthusiastic about this mask selling and this cause." Danielle gave her answer.
"Lastly, in a couple of months, you will have been DJ Dani for one year. Any thoughts you'd like to share on your impeding anniversary?" Daria inquired.
"Honestly, Daria? I'm seriously considering a rebranding of my channel. When I first joined YouTube and chose the alias DJ Dani, I got this troll going What are you, ten? Initially, I shrugged it off. But now I believe he or she might actually have a point. DJ Dani does sound juvenile, and I'm heading into this new adult phase of my life. I do love music, and I still want to talk about it. But I also want to add more strings to my bow. I want to have deep and meaningful conversations with my audience about the issues of the day and my thoughts. I want to really explore my morals and values with my followers. I'm immensely grateful to my subscribers for making me who I am, and I hope they stick with me for the long run." Danielle responded, in an optimistic voice.
"Well, if this new direction is as thoughtful and reflective as some of the answers you've given me today, then I'm sure it will be a success." Daria farewelled. "Thank you for coming on my channel, Danielle."
"It was an absolute pleasure, Daria. Thank you for having me." Danielle smiled, politely.
"Until next time. Whose power is it? Ours!" Daria exclaimed, as the video ended.
*** BLM ***
It was a cold and wintry night on the Lower East Side. Accordingly, the fire was burning brightly in the De Rossi house. Fire both in the literal sense, and in the metaphorical sense as Olivia finished eating her chilli con carne with roast potatoes. Placing her empty plate in the sink, the jock sprayed sanitiser on her hands from the large bottle that was stationed conveniently on the kitchen table. Once she had finished, she turned to her parents. "See you guys soon. I'm going to have a chat with Isaiah." Olivia called.
"Going to have a talk with your boyfriend?" Maria smirked, in a precocious tone.
After stopping and starting her reply several times, Olivia let out a little smile. "Yes, Maria. I am." That smile then transformed into a devilish smirk. "But someday, you might have a boyfriend. And as your big sister, I reserve the right to tease you unmercifully about it." She then turned on her heel and walked up the stairs to her bedroom, oblivious to the kissing noises Maria was making behind her back. Olivia entered her room, booted up her computer, and opened the waiting invitation to a Zoom chat. Once she had done so, she saw the grinning face of Isaiah staring back at her.
"Hey, boo. Looking nice today. It's so nice to see you without that ugly ass jaw bandage." Isaiah greeted. Olivia's dislocated jaw had fully recovered in the spring, and now she was back to eating her usual full array of food.
"And it's wonderful that you can see me with both eyes open, tesoro." Olivia beamed, her eyes twinkling. In all the excitement of the events of the summer, Isaiah had discharged himself before finding out that he needed surgery to remove the fragments of the rubber bullet from his eye. Once his parents had learned that he had been caught up in the Battle Of The Serpents whilst still partially blind, they had frogmarched him to the nearest hospital. As fate would have it, it was Mount Sinai – the same hospital that Olivia was recuperating from her dislocated jaw. Whilst they were in separate areas of the hospital, the duo had bonded over their shared experience, as well as their common interests in sports and community justice. That was the moment when their relationship had switched from one of mutual care to something more profound – love. Her brow then furrowed. "What's "boo" mean?" The Italian-American inquired.
"Bae. Babe. I can call you something else if you-" Isaiah began.
"No. Don't. I like 'boo'. It's sweet. Like you. Mmmmm….boo." Olivia swooned as she practically inhaled her boyfriend's affection through the screen.
"Shay warned me you'd be like this." Isaiah laughed, finding Olivia's behaviour to be amusing.
"Well, we Italians like everything bigger. Our weddings are bigger, our parties are louder, our arguments are angrier and our romances are deeper." Olivia explained, caught up in her infatuation.
"I bet you do – shit, Livy, I can feel your desire coming through the screen!" Isaiah purred.
"Maybe once we get the vaccine, we can see if it's really true when they say once you go black, you never go back." Olivia giggled, a hungry and lustful edge to her voice.
"Just have to hope your Dad doesn't find out and try to stick my head on a pike." Isaiah chuckled.
"Let him be mad. I'll be free to do as I wish soon enough. Besides, the worst he'll do is subject you to this long, boring talk about how sex is meant for marriage. He's not that bad…any more." The Italian-American defended. "So, I hear your family's suing the cop that shot you."
"Yeah. The lawyer said it would be easier to take the civil suit route, due to burden of proof and potential jury reluctance to convict. I heard your friend's kidnappers got put away." Isaiah noted.
"Yeah. Dani's really relieved about that. The whole thing left her messed up and needing help. Anyway, enough about my friends. I just wanted to let you know that I haven't forgotten about the lessons I learned, and I've got a plan to put into action." Olivia stated.
"Which is…?" Isaiah probed.
"I've been invited to a Juventus women's training camp in Italy next summer. I'm going to get the opportunity to earn a contract. Of course, this is an amazing opportunity for me. But it's also an opportunity for community soccer here in Lower Manhattan. I know that the Black community does not necessarily get access to quality sporting opportunities, especially in soccer. Which is why I've decided that if I do get signed, I'm going to use some of that money to pay for upgrades to soccer fields, especially here on the L.E.S and in Harlem. The only reason I'm getting this opportunity is because I was fortunate enough to hone my skills on quality turf, and I want to see those less fortunate get that same chance to grow their talent." Olivia told her boyfriend, hope swelling within her.
"Wow. That's…really something. There's a soccer field not far from my house. Belonged to some club that's been dead for four years. Maybe…?" Isaiah pondered.
"That sounds like a good idea. It's going to be tough. Probably going to get back in game shape over the winter." Olivia pondered. "Anyway, got to go. Talk tomorrow. Love you, Izzy."
"Love you too, Livy." Isaiah flashed a dazzling smile, as the pair of virtual lovers blew each other a kiss through their screens.
*** BLM ***
"Good afternoon, dear brothers and sisters in Christ." Cardinal McMahon intoned via Zoom. The prelate was seated behind his desk in the Archdiocesan chancery. In two other Zoom windows were Brianna and Candace, each dressed in smart business dresses, with their hair done up and wearing tasteful makeup. Any less than their best just would not do in the presence of His Eminence – even if it was only a virtual meeting. Memories of her First Communion and Confirmation flashed through the activist's mind, as well as going to court for the sentencing of Andre's killer. Brianna was split in two when it came to the idea of formal wear. Part of her loved it, and yet part of her would rather rock a simple winter jacket.
The Archbishop of New York continued to speak: "Today, I feel compelled by the Spirit to speak on the life of Sister Thea Bowman. A granddaughter of a slave, she became a Franciscan sister at the age of 15. She would go on to become a school teacher in Wisconsin and her birth state of Mississippi. As someone who came of age during the civil rights movement of the 1960's, I was inspired by the contribution she made to the lives of Catholics of colour. She was a guiding force in the composition of the first ever African-American Catholic hymnal, and gave addresses to Black congregations the world over."
Cardinal McMahon continued: "One of my most vivid memories of Sister Thea was when she, with a smile on her face and a twinkle in her eye, coaxed the CBS reporter Charlie Rose into uttering the words "Black Is Beautiful." Black is beautiful, because humanity is beautiful. However, the stories of many individuals show that many Black Catholics feel they are not viewed as beautiful by their fellow brothers and sisters. I have long believed the church on earth must do more and act as a moral beacon to all people, and here is another opportunity. That is why today I am announcing the commission of an independent investigation into institutional racial and ethnic bias in Catholic institutions in this state. This inquiry is supported by my brother bishops in Brooklyn, Rockville Centre, Syracuse, Ogdensburg and Buffalo. The ultimate goal is full transparency, and I encourage anyone who has felt unwelcome in our Catholic community to speak to the investigators. But I also have another, happier announcement. Next month – Black History Month, the Archdiocese Of New York will launch the Black Is Beautiful Project, in collaboration with the NAACP. As the name implies, this initiative will be a showcase of the beauty of Black Catholicism, such as African-American hymns, the stories of many great Black Saints and martyrs and dialogue on what the church means to the Black community, as well as exploring ways to boost Black vocations. If the words Sister Thea persuaded Charlie Rose to speak are true, then we should act like it. As far as our Lord is concerned, black is beautiful!"
"Amen! I could not agree with you more, Your Eminence, and I am so excited to be with you in spirit for this announcement." Candace smiled. "When one thinks of the Catholic Church in America, the usual stereotypes emerge – almost comically large Irish or Italian families. However, I know there is more to the church then those images of yore. I am Catholic because, quite simply, no church organisation campaigns more for social justice in our community. The social teaching of the Church is Christ's call to love your neighbour in action, and I look forward to heeding that same call to help my fellow Black Catholics stand loud and proud."
Brianna's satisfaction, however, was somewhat quieter. St. Mary Of The Angels had prided itself on being one of the most ethnically diverse parish communities in Manhattan, with a large contingent of African immigrants from places such as Cameroon, Ghana and Nigeria amongst the congregation on any given Sunday. And yet, she had never seen an African-American priest in person, or a Black nun in full veil and habit. Now it seemed like steps were being taken at long last to inspire people like her who had a heart for God to discern their role in the Kingdom.
And all Brianna had to say about that was: It's about time!
The winds of winter swirled around Carrie, MJ and Peter as they exited a park car, holding food parcels in their hands. Whilst the wallcrawler was grounded, his webs still proved an invaluable asset as they wrapped around the parcel and gently lifted it in the air towards the fifth storey window, where it was received by an elderly African-American shut in. All present marvelled at this unique form of contactless delivery.
Olivia pulled her jacket around her as she walked through the snow that laid on the sidewalk. Getting back to something resembling full game fitness after almost a year of no soccer would take some doing. As such, she and Antonio had instituted a strict diet and exercise regime, which including walking and vigorous treadmill exercises each day. As the Italian-American continued her constitutional, she came across a closed off soccer field with a light dusting of snow on the ground. Absent-mindedly, she raised her hands and formed the shape of a camera, as she imagined what this ground would look like with much-needed upgrades.
On the corner of Webster Avenue and East Fordham Road, near the campus of Fordham University, Danielle and her band mate Petra, along with Daria and Demetrius, were distributing masks for the cost of a donation to the Black Mental Health Alliance. "There we go!" Daria smiled, as the mother of a six year old girl helped her adjust a mask so it fitted properly. Danielle and Petra cheered and clapped, giving child friendly encouragement. Just then, the girl's eyes locked onto Danielle's KN95 mask. "Bird! Bird!" She squealed excitedly, pointing at the mask.
As the mother shushed the girl as they walked away, Danielle caught their eye and flapped her arms like wings. Petra turned to face Danielle, with a look of mischief in her eyes. "She's right, you know. That mask does make you look like a bird. Maybe that can be your superhero/horror persona – The Harrier." The redhead's voice then took on an epic tone. "By day, our hero is a counter cultural girl trying to keep her head down and get through high school.. However, one night, she falls asleep with her mask on, a mask that, unbeknownst to her, has magical properties. That night – and every night – she finds herself transformed into an unholy bird-like creature with a thirst for the blood of the wicked. What do you think, Dani? That sound like you?"
"Send it to Netflix. They haven't put out any new content for a couple of weeks." Danielle quipped.
"Get cracking you two! These masks won't give themselves out!" Daria laughed, as a line had begun to form.
Brianna walked the halls of her Princeton residence hall, mask on and a series of posters in her hand. When she reached an empty wall, she opened a box of pins she had with her. Taking four pins, one for each corner, she pinned her poster to the wall. Stepping back to take a look, she was satisfied with her work. The poster read: "This Black History Month, live your life in a way that will anger a racist." The text was accompanied by several clenched fists of different colours. As she looked at the poster, Brianna could not help but be proud of her friends. They had taken the lessons of the summer to heart, and they were actively working to reduce inequality in their communities.
And she hoped and prayed that they would always fight injustice together, no matter what it was.
THE END?
*** BLM ***
The paper target containing a black human silhouette was filled with several holes as gunshots erupted. Four other targets that were lined up against the wall had met the same fate. The five men with rifles all reloaded, raised their weapons, aimed at the target, and fired. More holes were the result. Daniel nodded in approval as he watched the shooting drill continue. These men were some of the best marksmen in the world, so their success was no surprise. Leaving them to it, he took a stroll across the training compound. Several recruits were completing an obstacle course, whilst others practiced hand-to-hand combat. After the disastrous attack on New York, the Sons Of The Serpent had decamped to Garwood, Idaho, where they had formed an alliance with a militia group known as the 1890 Brigade, named for the year the northwestern state was admitted to the union. The Brigade's compound had provided a suitable place for Daniel and Montague to go off the grid and wait until the heat died down. The former radio host would rather die than be sent to ADX Florence
As he entered his sleeping quarters, he saw Montague completing a phone call. "Yes, yes. I'm glad we could reach this understanding. Thank you." The African-American former lawyer answered, before hanging up. Turning to the blond, Montague adopted an airy voice. "Ah, Daniel. I was just talking to a contact in the Kootenai County Sheriff's Office. Trying to smooth over the damage you caused. Believe it or not, law enforcement don't take kindly to those that hurt their own."
"It was the only way. The public needed to be filled with fear, so they would demand police be strengthened and act as a counter movement against the BLM protestors, causing chaos." Daniel defended, no remorse in his voice.
"And would this strengthening of police come before or after your little palace coup? You used a cudgel where a scalpel was needed. Now look where we are!" Montague raised his voice.
"Well if your way is so superior, perhaps we should try it!" Daniel yelled, resentment building towards his partner in crime.
"I am glad you see things my way, friend." Montague smirked. Grabbing his tablet, he continued. "This type of war is won not with the gun, but with the microphone and camera. Don't you worry, there'll still be lots of mayhem. But, it will have a purpose." Opening his picture folder, he began to lay out his plan.
"As you will have doubtlessly heard, the COVID vaccine has received emergency approval from the FDA. Projections show that, by this summer, there will be significantly more options of public gatherings, and you can bet there will be pent-up demand." The African-American then began to scroll through several photos of well-known American landmarks. These included the Lincoln Memorial in Washington D.C, the Statue Of Liberty, Madison Square Garden and Saint Patrick's Cathedral in NYC, Fenway Park in Boston, the Liberty Bell in Philadelphia, Bourbon Street in New Orleans, AT&T Stadium in Dallas and Dodger Stadium in Los Angeles.
"So, we attack civilians instead. How does this help our cause?" Daniel inquired.
"That is the genius of this plan. If you sufficiently terrify a population, and give them an enemy, they will do the fighting for you." Montague explained, as he showed Daniel the penultimate photo – a heavily redacted file from S.W.O.R.D about something called "Mimic-27". His voice took on an ominous edge as he revealed the true scope of his plan to his partner.
"You see, we are not going to attack civilians. They are."
The last photo was of a stately-looking mansion. One that would not look out of place in the English countryside. The only thing that indicated that it was of any greater significance was the shot of a small, golden plaque on the front gate.
The plaque read "XAVIER'S SCHOOL FOR GIFTED YOUNGSTERS".
THE END