Girl in the Mirror

Written for the "The Dialogue 500" 
Prompt: A conversation between someone from the past and someone from the future.
Winning Entry
___________________________

“Who are you?”

“Ain’t that the question I should be asking you? Girl, you just walked out of my grandma’s mirror. I knew her house was kinda spooky, but this...”

“This isn’t my home, and besides, you were the one who walked through the mirror.”

“Nu-uh, I didn’t walk through no mirror…hey! What happened to my room?”

“Maybe we’ve switched places.”

“You sound white, girl. And why you dressed up like you’re from the sixties or something?”

“This is the sixties. My name is Brenda Mitchell and I attend Washington High School. I’m sixteen years old and--”

“Haha, funny sweetie, but we’re in 2006, okay? Nice try with the whole costume and stuff, but things have changed, girl. Nobody’s gonna want to date you looking like some ancient relic…”

“So this is what the future has become, huh?”

“What? You don’t like my room?”

“I attended a speech given by the Reverend King the other day--”

“Reverend King?”

“Doctor. Martin Luther King.”

“For real?! Girl, he’s like...been dead for a while now.”

“What?! Don’t you dare say that! Doctor King is going to become the president of the United States one of these days!”

“Haha! Ain’t no black man ever goin to be a president. Trust me, Jesse Jackson and that joke, Al Sharpton wanted to run, but they was run out like melted cheese--”

“Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton?”

“Don’t you read the news, girl?! Even I do and I hate CNN.”

“CNN?”

“Cable news...on TV?”

“Snoop…Dogg? Young Jock? And why are there half naked women all over these plastic encased things…”

“Don’t you be messing around with my CDs! They’re my life! Besides, you’ve got the worst taste in music girl…Little Richard? Heheh, the guy does Geico commercials now.”

“Don’t mess around with my records either. My mom risked a lot to get me that. We all risk a lot everyday…”

“Damn even the posters are funny…”

“We get beaten just because we want our rights as human beings. We march, we sing, we pray to God for a day when we’ll be free…”

“And look at these bed sheets. Girl, we need to go shopping.”

“And this is what the future has become?! This is why we suffer, and when we eventually get the freedom we deserve, it’s to have naked women dancing and producing songs that sound like…like…!”

“No need to yell, girl. Times have changed, in case you ain’t noticed by now. But maybe when you get older you’ll understand. All right, we’ve gotta switch. I think I hear your ma calling you.”

“Promise me something.”

“What’s that?”

“That you’ll grow up to become a better young woman. That you’ll take your education seriously and make your ancestors' struggle all worthwhile.”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say. Hey, wait a sec…you said your name was Brenda, right? I had an Aunt Brenda, but she died of cancer two ye…ars….ago…hey…where did she go? Dang. Just when I was getting to the good part too.”


Word Count: 500