Someone to Love

-13-

"There. That should take care of that bruising." Sofia announced as she closed up her small pouch of smuggled makeup. I opened my eyes and hopped off the counter to take a look.

"We're not exactly the same color," she continued, "but it'll have to do. It's better than walking around looking bruised and busted."

I sighed. It wasn't too evident that I was wearing makeup to hide the bruise on my cheek. All the blood had been washed away, so I was left looking tired and beat-down. Thankfully, Sofia came in and helped me cover up the bruises on my face. My torso was also bruised, but that could be easily hidden.

"Thank you so much, Sofia. You're a life-saver."

"You're welcome, babydoll." She put the pouch back into her bathroom bag. She fished out a brush and started brushing her hair. "Now, you wanna tell me what's going on and why you were beaten?"

I looked down at my blood-crusted fingernails. I didn't want to tell her. I didn't want her to know I was weak.

"Katrina, hiding isn't going to make anything better."

"I know," I agreed quietly.

Sofia put the brush back in her bag and turned to face me. "I can't make you talk, but I do know that holding stuff in isn't good for you. If you need someone to talk to, let me know. I'm always around and willing to help." She ran a hand in my hair.

"Thank, Sofia." I looked up at her and, ironically, for the first time, I felt like I actually had a mom.

I never got to meet my biological mom. She didn't want to meet me either, apparently. As the story goes, she was a surrogate, chosen out of hundreds of other women, only to carry me for nine months and then give me away. Pops told me once that he chose her because she was so determined about everything she did. When all three of them met, she immediately felt the need to help. According to my sister, my mom wouldn't even look at me when I was born. She wanted nothing to do with me. I tried contacting her, but she would never ever get back to me. What type of mother just has a baby and never thinks about it ever again? What type of mother doesn't care enough to at least check up on the life that she carried for nine months? Dad and Pops gave her permission to see me whenever she wanted, but obviously she was happier being a selfish, inconsiderate bitch.

I made my way out of the bathroom and down to the cafeteria for dinner. A hamburger patty topped with thin gravy (Was this awful piece of meat supposed to be Salisbury steak?), unseasoned mashed potatoes, and green beans which actually didn't look too bad. I saw Poussey and Janae sitting at a table near the back, so I walked down the middle aisle to get to them. I was almost to the table when suddenly a foot appeared in my path. I couldn't get around it. I couldn't avoid it. All I could do was trip right over it. And that's exactly what happened.

My tray toppled forward, hitting the floor with a loud thud. I followed the tray, landing on my face in a pile of mashed potatoes, green beans, and thin gravy. As soon as my body made connection with the food, turning my bruised, yet covered face into a plate, everyone in the cafeteria decided that it would be a good time to laugh like they had just heard the funniest joke of their lives. Some people stood up to get a better look. Everyone was laughing... at me.

"That's what yo lil bitch ass get." someone spat down to me. I looked up. Sitting at the table with Vee and some other people was Taystee.

I took my hand and wiped off the food off my face the best I could and then stood up. "Look here, you nosy hoe," I directed at Taystee, who was turned away, trying to ignore me. "Whatever the fuck happened between you and Poussey is none of my business. But Poussey is my business now. You wanna know what we did? Huh? You wanna know what's going on between us, right? Alright, fine," I hopped up on the table and screamed, "Apparently Taystee wanted the world to know that I fucked Poussey. Yeah, that's right. We. Fucked. I took my tongue and put it to work until she came. Are you fucking happy now, Taystee? Huh? You wanted to know, bitch. Well now you know."

Just then, a female CO came in and saw me making a scene. She rushed over, skittered around my tray which was still on the floor, and hissed, "Bernard, get down, right now. This is not appropriate cafeteria etiquitte and I should write you a shot for this."

"If I'm getting a shot, the bitch that tripped me should get one too." I pointed out, nodding towards Taystee.

"I can only write up what I see." she stammered.

"Everybody fucking saw it." I looked around. Every single head was down, trying not to pay attention. I was boiling mad. Just because the new girl gets bullied, no one wants to pay attention anymore.

Poussey strode over. "Katrina, get down. Now." Her brow was furrowed in anger. I stepped down off of the table.

"What happened in here?" the CO asked.

Hopping off of the table, I explained the last two minutes. The CO (Fisher, I think was monogrammed on her uniform) took out her little notepad and wrote me up for being disorderly. She refused to write Taystee up because she didn't see her trip me and no one wanted to attest. After glaring angrily at Taystee, I left my tray right there on the ground, brushed past Poussey and left the cafeteria.

"Shit. What the fuck happened to you?" Gina asked me as she passed me on the way to the cafeteria.

"That stupid bitch tripped me."

"Who?"

"Taystee."

Gina sneered. "Damn, you better go get cleaned up. You have gravy in your hair."

Not in the mood, I turned and continued stomping down the hallway back to my dorm so I could get clothes. I decided to shower in another dorm's bathroom. I needed to use real soap and water and stand under a hot (or moderately lukewarm) spray. A hoochie bath wasn't going to cut it.

After my shower and washing the food out of my hair, I went back to my dorm where everyone was just coming back from dinner. I sat on my bunk reading a book, occasionally watching people come in. When Taystee came in with Vee, I glared at the two, wishing looks could kill. If my Matilda senses had been working that day, I would've strangled Taystee and beaten Vee with Taystee's dead body.

"The fuck you looking at?" Taystee asked, catching my gaze. "Did you not fucking learn your lesson at dinner?"

Dog-earing my page, I closed the book, sat it on my given metal cabinet and kicked off my shoes all while staring spitefully at Taystee. I tore my eyes from her and pulled my sheets back. She didn't have to be concerned with me. I wanted nothing to do with the bitch.

Except revenge.