Yazmin Nyla Robertson and Sean Jackson come from two different worlds, despite living in the same city. Two worlds that were never meant to cross paths, but did.
Started: March 2021
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I think everyone has their own definition of freedom and goes about freedom differently. People may look at what I'm doing as nowhere close to freedom. I still have to go back to the home that I loathe and I still have to show up differently for my parents, but this slither of time that I get to take the train alone or roam the streets is my freedom. It's not much, but it's a start. It's freeing to know that I can control something so small as where I'm going after school and what I'm going to eat. Sadly, I want more. What can I do to be free?
Slowly, Yazmin closed her journal and looked up from the bus. She stood up from her seat in the corner and followed everyone into the train station.
This was the fourth time that she was able to take the bus home and she had fun doing it. It gave her time to think about life and things she wouldn't even have the time to think about. It was getting easier to take the bus, so she found herself going to other places.
Café's, malls, random stores and a couple of markets.
It was hard doing so sometimes when Mama Mei questioned her whereabouts. She didn't understand why Yazmin needed to go to Penny's house so often. But, she trusted Yazmin, so she didn't try to push anything out of her.
Yazmin pushed her hair away from her face as the train stopped in front of her. Once it opened, she quickly made her way to the seat that she found to be her favourite. It was right next to the exit door, which made it easy for her to get off. She didn't have to push through any crowds.
Placing her hands on top of her bag, she watched as the strangers on the train found their seats, some stood up and held onto the poles.
After a few stops, Yazmin smiled as the train doors slid open and in walked the average height woman with the beautiful curls. Her hair was now tied in a low sleek bun, revealing her round face structure, high cheekbones and thin shaped eyebrows. She wore a grey graphic tee and vintage jeans that brought out her curvy figure.
"It's you again. Fourth time's a charm."
"Hey," Yazmin smiled and made space for her to sit next to her.
"I guess it is."
"How are ya?"
"I'm good. Just came from doing some book shopping. Where are you off to?"
Luckily, she changed out of her school uniform and traded it in for straight fit jeans and a cropped tee. She didn't know what the girl would've thought if she was dressed in her private school uniform.
She did have casual clothing hanging in the back of her closet. Her parents believed that appearance was everything. It said a lot about who you were, your character and what you brought to the table.
"You're not cheap so you shouldn't be wearing cheap clothing," Her mother would say.
"Getting something to eat and then I'm gonna head home," Alex tilted her head and looked at Yazmin. "You know this is the fourth time I'm seeing you and I still don't know your name."
