“She Knew” A short story

As I’ve been listening to the album (which will be out SO SOON), and thinking about what I want to say about all the injustice in the world, I decided to try my hand at a narrative with my album and my screen play, “Parisian Dreamin”. Each character will have their own story, and the songs will also go with the stories. Here is the first, “She Knew”. Subscribe to our mailing list to get each short story and more updates about the album and all other things soul nerd! 


This day hadn’t meant anything to Akiva in several years. After getting back from Paris, working with her aunt for the Black Paris uprising, and coming back, immediately working in Baltimore, she knew. She knew that something was going to happen. She didnt know it would take this long, but she could feel something boiling under the surface. All the tell tale signs; Twitter had been set ablaze in the past couple days, people fighting in the streets for weeks, clashing with the police, it’s happening.

As she sat up in her bed she looked to her left and remembered him. He was so alive, so passionate about life and about freedom. He enjoyed good food, good music and great sex. Akiva rubbed the pillow and turned away. When would she see him again?  She didn’t know if it would be behind bars, or hanging from a tree. All she knew was her fight was to make his capture not in vain.

She turned on the t.v. and saw that the tanks were coming in.

After years and years of doing this and working with her aunt Ci Ci, she knew, she knew today would  be different. She knew preparing herself for the rest of her life may be just preparing herself for today. July gave her a call.  July warned Akiva not to do anything irrational, but Ju Ju knew. She could feel it over the phone. Akiva was ready. Akiva knew that the work that had been done up to this point was for this day. The people were tired, the people were fed up. No longer listening to what the news, what the radio, what their pastors, what their religions leaders had to say. All they wanted was freedom. The only way to get freedom is to take it. She knew this wouldn’t be easy, so she decided to start writing her message. Maybe if written those that were against it would understand, she knew that there wasn’t much hope in that, but maybe then the ones were with it would understand better.

She stood up, went to her computer at the window and typed,

If bravery is found through love, let me never tire of the act, let me choose to be brave each day. If words spoken in hope and grace mean more than those spoken out of envy, let me know them of the former and less of the latter. Let darkness fade on the coward. Let light shine, let love glow. Even if painful, let it be triumphant in my heart. I pledge allegiance to love.

She hoped that writing this and sending it to the right people would get out in time. So she pressed send. Retweet after retweet after video after facebook share came. And as she prepared herself for the worst, the first bomb fell. This was the second civil war, and her fight, her allegiance, were in love.

Jeanette Berry


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