𝐊𝐢𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐢 𝐑𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐞 𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐥𝐲𝐧
𝙷𝙾𝚄𝚂𝚃𝙾𝙽 ,𝚃𝙴𝚇𝙰𝚂 ➪ 𝟹:𝟸𝟶 𝙿.𝙼
[ ======] 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐄 [======]"We're here." My mama smiled looking over at me. I nervously looked over at her seeing we were at a prison.
"Y-you didn't say we were coming here mama.." I said feeling myself become emotional.
I was scared and nervous.
The only person we could possibly be seeing was my dad.
I haven't even seen him since I was like a baby. One or two, I can't remember...
"You not happy?" A frown quickly came on her face.
"I don't know.." I whispered, feeling a tear roll down my face.
I don't know why I was so sad, but I was.
They wouldn't let us see him the first couple of years but I guess he's doing good in there.
"It's almost his birthday Mookie, the least you can do is let him see your face today." She touched my shoulder.
I looked foward at the big building through the glass mirror.
"Okay." I mumbled. She squealed getting out the car, I got out, catching my breath, closing the car door behind me.
She grabbed onto my hand, as we walked closer to the building.
"You have nothing to be worried about Kiyomi." She assured me.
I let her words sink in. I don't know why I was acting like this but, l was really nervous.
"Okay mama." I said not saying anything else. We walked through the large gates, going down the path walk way.
Opening the door, the cool air hit the both of our faces.
"Go sit over there." My mama pointed to the four black chairs lined up by the wall.
I sat down as she went to talk to the front desk lady. Letting my thoughts take over.
I wonder what he looks like.
How he sounds ? I know my mama said he had an extremely deep voice.
He was tall.
Had alot of tattoos.
"Come on..." My mama snapped me out of my thoughts. I stood up following behind her to the guest room.
When we were inside the guest room, a few people were here visiting a few other prisoners.
We sat down at a empty table. I looked down at my nails, they were the most interesting thing at the moment.
I looked up after a moment, seeing a tall brownskin man, his hair was in long corn rows, tattoos decorated his neck, and probably more. He was in a orange jumpsuit. A guard bringing him to the table, hand cuffs on his wrist.
He held a small frown. The guard let him go once he got to the table. He stood there staring at me and my mom as the guard walked away.