Sweet Thang [COMPLETE]

PTSD

Shayne

"No, I— I can't come in today, I'm sorry," I apologized to my supervisor on the phone while sitting stiff as a board on the couch. "What's goin' on Shayne? This is the fourth time this month you've called out. If this continues I'm afraid I'm gonna have to write you up." I shrugged. "I know and I'm sorry. But my— my daughter is sick so she's staying home from daycare and and I couldn't get a sitter for her at the last minute." I looked over at a perfectly fine sleeping Zaya.

"Well I can understand that. If there's an opportunity for you to make up your shift later this week I'll let you know."

"Okay, thank you." I got off that phone quickly. I sat on the couch in the living room bent at the waist sobbing into my knees. How I ended up here? Alone, hurt, depending on little pills to get through the day, I didn't know! I felt like I was failing as a mother, as a daughter, as a sister, and as a girlfriend. It had been such a long time since I felt like nothing I had was worth enough to give the world and I always hoped my Mama's prayers would keep me high enough that I would never feel that low again. But here I was, using something in an attempt to fill all of the voids.

"You ain't gotta work?" I heard Shakur's voice ask from behind me and I sat up and wiped my tears away before turning to see him standing at the kitchen island texting. "Naw, I don't feel good. Where you goin'?"

"Couple money moves to make. And aye, quit runnin' to Mama and tellin' her all my business. I'll be back in a couple hours." He left out and I followed him out the door with my eyes.

As soon as he was out the house I rushed to my feet and ran down into the basement. I started going through the trash cans and cabinets in the kitchenette, the bathroom, turning couch cushions, looking through his closet until I finally dropped to my knees and looked under his bed to see a new flat safe tucked beneath it. I slid that heavy muthafucka out and started keying in anything. I tried our birthday, that didn't work. Mama's birthday, that didn't work. Then I tried Jazhya's birthday and the safe beeped as the screen turned green and I opened it. In front of me was what had to be thousands of pills, bricks of what had to have been cocaine, heroin, money, and marijuana.

I carefully opened the plastic wrapped bag with a 'O' label on it so that when I was through it wouldn't look like I had even been there. I took out a handful of pills and stuffed them into both of my pockets. But I just couldn't fucking wait. I had been itching to not feel the effects of the life I lived and I had to make all of the pain and worry subside even if only for a couple hours or so. I took one of the hundred dollar bills out of the safe and looked around the room for any durable object. My eyes settled on a silver grinder on Shakur's nightstand. I crawled to it, taking two of the pills out of my pocket, biting them into halves once and then again before beginning to slam the grinder into my pills. I did that until I got the powder as fine as I could get it before folding the Benjamin up to line it up and then I rolled the bill up to snort all of what was most likely Oxy up my nostril.

"Shit!" I coughed as my eyes watered.

Shakur

"Shit! I forgot the rack I was supposed to take to Arnell later," I said to myself as I hit the steering wheel before looking both ways and busting a u-turn to head back home. It was a good thing I hadn't made it out of the community because if I had realized that once I'd passed that gate, that little child support shit would have had to wait until another day and I would have just had to hear Arnell's mouth. Her crazy ass. I'm hella grateful for my child, but Lord knows I ask Him all the time why the hell it had to be that arrogant ass girl I got pregnant. It seem like every other week her ass is calling my phone and begging me for money.