My gilrfriend was the BLACK PANTHER

I grew up in a predominantly white family of staunch racists. My father was 6 generation confederacy klu klux clan elect and my mother; the epitome of southern belle charm. Me and my 3 brothers and only sister knew the moment our privelage was questioned. It was the day SHE moved to our small town in Bell Buckle, Tennessee.

We were a small town of mostly upstanding and honest citizens with upstanding jobs and upstanding credit. I just always thought we were ridiculously clueless and narcissistic rednecks who felt we could do no harm. My dad for instance, to this day, refused to believe that his buddy and old college and clan mate was the culprit responsible for my taking my then 15 year old sister's virginity.

He had denied all claims made by my sister and without thinking, my dad was happy to send her 5 states away for college. Not from pride for her almost perfect G. P. A scores but more rather from guilt.

I never spoke to Richard Brooke ever again since then, my older brother Neil avoided the situation all together. My other brother Micheal was instead busy preventing everyone from being able to figure out he was in love with Chet Coleman. My dad, just continued having beer and bites night with his buddies including Richard Brooke.

I was pissed and I wanted revenge but I knew I had no chances against my family but the moment I saw that white Dodge Grand Caravan, I knew something was about to change and Bell Buckle would never be the same again. At that time, I just didn't know really how much.

Tory and William Shields came to our small town right in the middle of fall. They seemed genuinely nice and very pleasant at first but I found it strange that they hardly ever interacted with their daughter. That was also the strange part. They were a white retired couple of almost 60 but their daughter was a black girl of about 17 or 18.

I never thought myself racist because while my dad would every night argue of the blinding ingratitude of blacks towards civil society and how much whites had built the American dream. Usually with him often shouting at our flat screen while watching the evening news, I would often be busy upstairs "beating off" to Ciara and wishing Janet Jackson would join in.

I grew up accepting differences a long time ago the first day I bought a Method Man CD. I grew fond of old school rap and secretly would use my allowance to buy hip hop and rap albums. My dad never knew and my mom never cared. So you could imagine my surprise and eager anticipation in meeting Katora Michael Shields.

Katora was stunning. Large brown eyes, smooth dark velvet skin, full thick lips and long black braids. It seemed the Gods had answered my prayers finally and sent me Janet directly in the post. The moment I met Katora outside her back yard was also the day I also discovered her family's harrowing secret.

I had been chopping the last of the firewood my mom had been begging me to do for the last few months and glimpsed over my fence to see large brown eyes gleaming at me. I stood there with the axe in my hand, still raised in shock from the intrusion. Her smile was what held me transfixed. It was filled with something more than just girlish flirting. It appeared like raw insatiable hunger, or was that lust? I didn't care.

That day I found out Katora was adopted and was usually kept in the back. The family had moved over 8 times already and that she was her family's protector. I remembered thinking how amazing it was to know this girl was taking care of her elderly foster parents but how cruel they were for keeping her locked away.

Everyday since then I would sneak in the back, hoping to have another encounter with Katora. She hardly came out and strangely was often hours at a time walking or lying around her backyard. Her fence was very high and you could have only seen her head but what a beautiful head it was.

I tried peering over the wall sometimes but she would playfully nip at me then smiled while shaking her braided head. I wanted to kiss her, I needed more but I would be patient. I thought of some great places I would show her for our dates. Maybe even tell her about my Janet fantasy and wondered if she could sing. I decided then and there, even without my family's approval, that she would be my girlfriend.

My father was less enthused. In fact the last straw came on Thanksgiving Day when my dad found out a "ni**er" lived next door and began vocalizing his disgust with snark, catish remarks. My sister had returned on holiday break from college and looked less pleased to return to Bell Buckle. My brothers just idly moved around the house until they all heard the commotion.

I started shouting at my dad to quit his racist tirade and even threatened to call the police if he didn't. My mom on the otherhand wasn't sure who to side with so decided to communicate with her wine glass instead. My sister stood quietly just staring at Katora who only stood there glaring silently at my father.

Without warning, a flash of wood, splinters and dark fur mowed through our next door back fence and into our yard. The creature darted across our lawn and latched unto my father's neck. Moments later, blood, bone and grissle spewed from my dads head before he collapsed to the ground. My mother broke the scared silence with a loud shriek before dropping her glass and running into the house.

I watched the creature dart away from us and into the foliage of nearby bushes and then into the forest. The gleam in her eyes and those full lips told me then and there who Katora really was but my sister just stood there and stared. A wickedly satisfying smile spread across her face.