If the Projects could talk, they would have told her eons ago; that the road she had been headed down would lead to her own self destruction.
They would have warned her, in light whispers that the friends she called her own would have betrayed her;...
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Promises are only worth making, when they can be kept
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"There goes 'grumma's' little angel." Claudia flashed a large gleaming grin as she watched her grandchild occupy the seat adjacent to her.
She pulled her beaded bifocals down, running her palms to the thin, string bookmark which rested in the crack of her Holy Bible, separating the pages.
"How are you doing ma?" Anael smiled weakly as she watched her grandmother inch closer to her. With each move she made, her palms would shake, and her bottom lip, quiver.
Claudia took the vacant spot next to the young girl, reaching her hands out to touch her curly afro with a smile embedded into her skin.
"I'm doing better now that you're here. You need to come see your grumma more often." Her guilt inducing statement was laced in a saddening layer of audible neglect, and the more Anael replayed her words, the worse she began to feel.
Anael sighed lowly to herself, nodding gently. Her grandmother was right, she did need to drop by more frequently, but often the young girl could not muster the strength to do so. Claudia served as a constant reminder that her father was and could never be in her life.
