Fuck Ghetto Love

[2] A Lone Cell

•Edited

The silent ride in the police car made Janisha feel even more alone. Tears again flooded in her eyes as she was sad of what her "family" had faded into. 

The incident replayed over and over in her head, it was like her brain was forcing her to feel the pain all over her body again. She felt the slap from when she was a little kid and all the punches leading up to now.

She was a broken soul.

But nevertheless she pulled it off by not swallowing a handful of pills or pulling the trigger from a cold steel gun. Well, you can say that she didn't "survive" as she would take a clean shiny blade and swipe it across places no one would see.

Little tiny droplets of blood would fall down her feet in the shower, going down the drain, painting her body red. And she felt "peace" with the pain that she induced onto herself. She felt a "heaven" on planet Earth, a hell to many.

For hours to no end, she would stare at the thick crimson liquid oozing from the harsh and deeply embedded cuts onto her dark skin, smiling as if she was on a awesome high.

She rested her head onto the cold glass window and peered out from the police car.

Then the eerie weight is put back onto her as she looks outside and see the environment change drastically. Apartment buildings started to be everywhere as liquor stores seemed to be at the end of every corner.

Run downed houses at the end of every street. People relaxing on their porch. And kids running around, playing "kiddie games".

Trap houses and all...

This is the Ghetto?, she thought.

Immediately, Janisha knew she wasn't in the white suburbs filled with nice lawns and Mercedes-Benz in every drive way. This was the Hood and there was no way to say it in a nice cutesy way.

Regardless of the black eye on her face and the busted lip that she has, she was hoping for better houses.

Not that she couldn't live here because she was too good but because she wasn't use to "that"- or whatever "that" is. This environment wasn't her "true" habitat. Though either way, she would have to get use to it.

She's just a rich girl who doesn't know anything about struggle in the eyes of anyone who couldn't eat at night, or who barely strived to put food on the table. She had things handed to her without begging; Janisha never had to work for anything. She got what she "needed".

Although, she didn't have the struggle of any of the people in this neighborhood. She has been hurt. She has been betrayed. And never was she loved.

Her dad left her life as soon as he could to get away. Divorced her mom and never looked back at the innocent little kid he left behind with a bitter hag wanting revenge.

She couldn't never reached out to her dad since she, the vile mother, took every device she had. Her phone, her computer, you name it.

The only thing she had control of was the house phone, and even that was guarded by her mother. She was home schooled and had every tutor on each school subject.

Even-though, she didn't attend to school, her everyday bully was her mother.

Her lids felt heavy as would anyone in a weakened state but suddenly the police car stops and pulls in a "random" driveway.

Woken up, she glances at the 2 story house almost comparing to the hell she use to call home.

The emotionless officer opened the door, so she could get out. Janisha forced her body to move out the car as she started to slouch on over to her new home. She never met her grandmother and never thought she had to.

She only heard of her once and that was when she was 8 years old. Her mother always kept her away from family. There was no true apparent reason onto why her mother did that. Still the naive little girl in those memories of hers, Janisha never thought her mother would hurt her out of spite but out of love. Somehow, living with her mother she made a way to love the prison that she lived in. And every punch or beating that happened in it.

The girl isn't right in the head and may never will be. Her mother broke probably every sensible thought in her. Janisha shouldn't be living with her grandmother, she should be in a mental facility.

Abruptly, the door opens as Janisha sat like a doll that has never been played with on the patio chair. There a old woman with age marks planted at random spots on her face stands in a satin bonnet and light pink night gown.

She looks at the officers and then Janisha and then to the officers again. Confusion settled into her face. Wrinkles more defined than ever.

She spoke little words but asked, "Who is she?"

The old woman in her 70's has never been in a bizarre situation like this and wonders why she has a girl bloodied to a pulp, sitting in her patio, followed by two cops.

The cop finally answered awkwardly," She's your granddaughter, mam."

A heavy silence fills the air as the old lady stood there in shock and at the same time joyous.

"I never thought I see you since that god damn witch tried to hide you from me," she spoke of cold words referring to her mother.

"You look so much like my son. So beautiful..."

Her warm hand caressed Janisha's face as tears ran down her cheeks. She couldn't believe that the first time meeting her granddaughter, ended up being like this, she was beaten and sad.

The only cause of this would be that bitch of a mother, Patricia, thought the old lady.

Janisha looked at her amazed. She never thought she'll meet anyone from her dad side of family.

Her arms wrapped around the warm caring lady, her grandmother, hugging her tightly in front of the officers. A officer smiled in comfort knowing she was in good hands as the other glared. They stepped away slowly.

The grandmother wiped the tears in her eyes,"Now, you go in the house as I talk to the officers."

Janisha nodded, doing what she had said. Minutes passed since the scene with Janisha and her grandmother; outside the old lady was still speaking with the two officers.

While that was happening, Janisha watched afar in a lone room she had took comfort in. Battered and bruised...