Nostalgia: a sentimental longing or wistful affection for the past, typically for a period or place with happy personal associations.
I love when it rains. The sky is relieved and stains the dry concrete pavement, that of which will soon become dre...
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The illusion of love- at times, proves itself to be more treacherous than it's truthful counterparts. Yet, in the same instance, the illusion, known to give off a placebo effect, sustains the voids of longing that dwell within our lives. Perhaps life would be different for the victims who hadn't succumbed to it's addictive and temporarily sweet taste. The moral: love is an omnipotent drug that few will find, but many will imitate.
The grueling umbrage that once treaded my summer days, finally came to an end. My dark and despondent thoughts soon gave way to my anticipation of starting middle school. New people, new place, new start, newfound interest. At least that's what I told myself. I still couldn't seem to get over the fact that this summer marked the end of any physical visitations and interactions with my father and his side of the family. Betrayed, hurt, and wounded. Enclosed by an outlining of innocence and naivete, I had become an object for manipulation. The veil that once distorted my perception of reality was slowly coming off.
In replacement of my ritualistic vacations to New York, I was stuck at home watching my siblings and playing secondary woman of the house. With my mother constantly being at work, Malcolm was left to inculcate discipline on all of the kids-even those that weren't biologically his. See, I was grounded for the entire summer for standard actions of immaturity expected at my age, but the thing is the punishment did not fit the crime. Originally, Malcolm made it known to both me and Matthew, that if we kept up our "foolishness," as he would say, we would be stuck doing intense physical training everyday.
K. And boy was he telling the truth.
At first, he remained true to his word but soon that seal of finality weakened, as he would be asleep most of the day, run errands with us kids, and at times show compassion.
K. Compassion my ass. That negro had you playing wife- the fuck.
Actually, he offered me the opportunity to give him facials, manicures, pedicures, and massages in exchange for not performing my quotidian portions of physical training. At first I was hesitant, being that his feet were just plain disgusting, but having did it before out of kindness and serving as a fair replacement, I accepted.
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September 28, 2007
"Mawnin' lenci. Ey yuh mudda say mi ah fi take you and Matthew to school today. So, get dressed and you and him ah get sometin' to eat fa breakfast before we leave," my grandpa announced coming into my room.
"Ok, and good morning," I responded after stretching, slowly getting out of bed.
About a week ago, my grandfather came to visit us after not seeing him for three years. Upon his arrival, he attempted to remediate the destructive relationship that he shared with my mom, and start fresh. The past trauma and toxicity that strained their dealings with each other also produced an absence among his only grandchildren. It's not like he was around us regularly anyway, but we at least saw him on holidays and received his occassional "make-up" or "guilt" gifts from him. Things were going pretty okay I guess, but I could only hope for the best. As for middle school, there were a ton of things I wasn't prepared for: various cute boys, lockers, elevated insecurities, premature and impetuous girls, and the list goes on. I was trying so hard to find a place to fit in amidst of it all, but it was hard. There were a ton of cliques, groups, and leftovers, most of which were exclusive and reserved for long-time friends, populars, the cool, and attractive persons.
K. Chiiileeee, if only I could bring you to the future and show you how much all of that stuff won't even matter in 10 years from now.
Exactly, ten years. That's a long time from now. But anyways, as I finished getting ready, I entered the kitchen to make Matthew and I some apples&cinnamon oatmeal with buttered and jellied toast.
"Good morning lenci," my mother greeted as she came into the kitchen.
"Good morning mommy."
"Your grandpa tell you about him taking you and Matthew to school this morning, right?"
"Yes."
"Okay, that's good. Well, enjoy your breakfast and don't worry about your brothers and sisters I'll make their food, ok?"
"Ok."
As she exited the kitchen, I called out to Matthew so that he could come and eat.
After we finished eating, we kissed and hugged everyone goodbye before heading out the door with grandpa.
"Bet you can't go down the stairs faster than me," Matthew said peskily.
K. And boy is he a pesk. I don't why ya mama ain't ship his ass back to wherever the fuck he came from.
"Boy please. Ready, set, go," I shouted before jumping off groups of steps at a time.
"Hey, that's not fair. You're cheating, I wasn't ready," he whined in the path of my dust.
"Too bad," I shouted waiting for him and grandpa at the base level of our apartment building.
"Hey hey hey. It's too early in the mawnin for the foolishness. And Matthew 'top all di whinin' and lenci don't be jumpin all pon di people house. People tryin' to sleep and that's disrespectful. Now yah better act like yah got some damn sense before I tell yah mudda," grandpa voiced in annoyance.
"Sorry grandpa," I apologized.
From the corner of my eye I could see Matthew sticking out his tongue at me while teasingly shaking his head. I just rolled my eyes in return.
K. He better stop before something else gets rolled.
"Alright, now let's get you guys to school," he said as we made our way to the car.
________________________________________ I hope y'all can forgive me for being gone for so long and then delivering a short chapter. I'm sorry, a lot has been going on and none of it good. But I'm gonna try my best to produce what I can. Now its time to check in with y'all.
