Sonder {COMPLETED}

VIII.

onika tanya.
september 12th.
nyc.

"Imagine sitting here arguing with me because you don't wanna eat your food. Do you wanna die? It sounds like you wanna die."

I pushed the full plate away from me and sat back, holding my hand out for my phone. She had me fucked up, and she'd had me fucked up for the last 48 hours.

I wanted her to get the fuck away from me with her hypocritical ass. One minute she didn't have the energy to argue with me and the next she had her big ass mouth open saying the same shit. She needed to stop talking back to me. The only reason she was even here was because of my mother and if Beyonce gave me my damn phone back for longer than five minutes, I'd cuss her ass out too.

"Nobody's arguing but you. It's always you."

She chuckled like she wanted to say something, but she knew better. "Eat your food man."

"I said no. The fuck don't you understand about that?"

"Watch your mouth and stop talking to me like you don't have sense. I don't have to be here making sure you're good after you literally just had a heart attack."

"You're not here because of me. I don't want you here. If it were up to me, you would've never entered my home. You would've been fired honestly, and you know that."

"Alright," She chuckled a small laugh before she tossed my phone on the table, got up, and left.

Fucking finally.

Damn.

I had been waiting on her to get out of my face since she got here. She came in here thinking she was running shit, and that was her problem. She didn't run shit in my house. She didn't snatch a damn thing from me in my house.

Pissed off, running on fumes, I stood up from the table and ignored the dizzy feeling I got. I snatched up the phone and typed up my mom's phone number, too frustrated to even find her contact. I stormed off into the living room, slower than I expected to be, holding onto the wall for balance.

"Hello? Nika how you feeling?"

"Mama get this bitch out of my house. Why did you send her here with me in the first damn place? She hasn't done shit but irritate me for two days."

"Sweetie please relax. All of us are trying to help you baby."

"She's not helping and you're not listening! I just said that!"

"Onika stop yelling. That's not good for you. All that's going to do is send you right back to the hospital."

I rolled my eyes, "It's like I have to scream and yell just to get you to listen! I'm telling you the bitch is not doing the job you paid her to do! Because I know you paid her!"

"Stop screaming Onika," She sighed on the other end of the phone.

"I don't even know why I called you," I hung up and tossed my phone harder than I expected. My phone hit my TV, leaving a discoloration immediately before it dropped to the floor, shattering.

Whatever. Nobody was listening to me anyway. I could scream and yell at my mother, and she would still be talking about some other shit that I was never talking about in the first damn place. It was like we were having two different conversations, and she refused to hear me. In one ear and out the other, literally. She was such a lost cause.

I didn't know how long I was in my living room, seething. I needed to get back to my work. If it wasn't me then who else would do it? I couldn't trust anybody else with my work, and that was the only reason I was such a large name in the first damn place.