𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 |𝟏𝟖+

52 || A Patient Man's Plan

I'm picturing this dress but a deep emerald green^

Prisoner - The Weeknd ft Lana Del Rey

𝔚𝔚𝔚
Cairo, Egypt

"Put that down."

"No!" I held Jido collectable to my chest and smiled at her across the garden, "I like it."

Mama looked at me. Her eyes dipped at the corners, her hands stopped what they were doing. She was displeased with my happiness, and it wasn't just because I'd ruined my braids playing with Jido. "I don't like the lessons your grandfather is giving you with these weapons."

If I wanted to resume playing fight with Jido, I needed Mama to fix my hair. Jido wouldn't let me play without protecting my hair. With the biggest sigh ever, I stomped across the garden and stood above her seated form. "How else will I protect us?"

Jido said Mama was like Sitto. They didn't understand the importance of protection because they weren't the ones that had to fight for it. They were good, and sometimes, good needed to be protected by bad.

"You don't need to protect me." Mama pulled away from her stupid flowers with a smile so pretty I wished I could have. I didn't want to think like her when I got big, but I did want to be beautiful like her. "I'm your mother. I protect you."

She was wrong.

Mama cries when I hurt the pests in her garden, the ones that shouldn't be allowed to touch what's hers. She gets upset when her flowers die.

She wouldn't hurt anyone, no matter what.

I would if they hurt her.

Besides, if I was good, then who would be the bad to protect us? Jido said he couldn't do it forever.

"Why don't you play with me today instead of your grandfather?" My knees, already slightly bruised from today's lessons dropped to the grass as I watched her remove her garden gloves. "I'm planting tulips. They're so wonderfully beautiful when they finally grow, they'll be your favorite too."

"No." All she did was plant her flowers in her garden.

It was so boring.

"Jido's not done teaching me about these!" I held up the gun for her to see how amazing all the metal looked, shaped like so but she didn't seem to agree. "I want to learn more about them."

"I don't like them and you shouldn't either." Mama's dark hair swayed as she shook her head. When she looked away from the gun, she finally spoke. "They curse the hands that hold them."

Crazy. Mama was crazy with those types of thoughts.

When I learned to braid my own hair, I wouldn't need to sit and listen to her talk crazy. But until then, I'd have to sit and take it. "How about you read a book instead?"

"I hate reading." A butterfly landed on the flowers in front of me, flowers that didn't belong to it but to Mama. I wanted to chase it away, make it leave but mama's hands in my hair stopped me.