Toxic

Chapter One

Rose, Reagan

You would think that as you walk through the door, home from detention, that I would get screamed at to put my phone in my father or mothers hand, or go straight up to my room and call it a night, but I would never get that because I wasn't raised that way.

"How was detention, baby?"
My mother asked, kissing my cheek as I walked through the basement door that held basically another kitchen were my momma was cooking.

I kissed her cheek and dropped my backpack on the orange couch that was across from the "kitchen."

"It was detention."

"What you been up to all day?"

I don't even know why I asked as she responded with cooking because that's what my mom spent majority of her time doing on weekdays once I got out of school, since that was her job. Now that we've grown up, my brothers and I, my mother nor my father has to look over us like they use to and now were exposed to who we really are.

"Come over here and give your
mama a hand, baby."

I stood up from the couch and pulling the shorts out of my ass, walked over to my momma and admired the attention she had on what she was cooking. Her face held strong features with pretty hazel eyes, that I hadn't inherited, Cuban bloodline, that showed through her light skin color and hair, and outstanding curves and hips that outlined her shape and even her personality.

She handed me a mask and I put it over my face, already knowing what to do since it wasn't that hard to cook up some cocaine because I had been accustomed to it ever since I walked in on my momma doing it when I was thirteen.

"Momma what are you doing?"
I questioned as Bianca stood behind me trying to come on the side of me to see what my momma was doing but I shoo'd her back into the living room.

"Nothing baby, nothing, just go play with Bianca and tell your brother to come here."

I didn't budge because all I could do was think about the mask that covered her face not to long ago. She was now over in front of me, rubbing my arm, wiping the year that had fell from my eyes.

"What were you doing mommy?"

"I promise I wasn't doing anything but cooking. I promise, mommy wouldn't lie to you."

She kissed my nose.

After helping my momma package the things up to get ready for delivery, I headed up to my bedroom to get ready to go for the weekend. We were all going on a family paid trip for this weekend, since it was Spring Break and also because my father didn't spend enough time quality time with my mom, quote on quote.

I heard a knock on my bedroom door.
"You can come in."

I looked up to see my mother and smiled knowing that she had most likely come in to help me pack my clothes. My momma was into fashion and having a mother like her, I was forced to always carry myself up to what the world believed was right to wear. Sometimes I just wanted to dress down, and be on my high waisted baggy jeans with a simple and cute sweater, but my mom wanted me to what she wanted me to be.

     "Have you packed your clothes yet, baby?"

     "I've packed some already, and I'm about to pack some now. Why, what
do you want?"

       "Nothing. I just thought that you might have needed my help," she said with a smile making me roll my eyes in the inside at her choice of words.