Eventually it’ll be too much to bear - you’ll buy a rope, tie a noose, put it around your neck, and plunge into the cold abyss. Your parents will find you, heartbroken but relieved that they no longer have to live with the unbearable shame and disappointment. They’ll bury you with a headstone marked with a non-White name, and every passerby for the rest of eternity will know a mutt is buried there. Your body will decay and go back to the dust, and all that will remain of your legacy is a skeleton that is unmistakably mutt.

This is your fate. This is what you chose. There is no turning back.