" That's not fair and you know it," He gritted, " You're not the only one who blames themselves for his death."
" He's dead because of me, Exodus!" I yelled before I could even stop myself, " It should've been me laying in the fucking casket, not...
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Now playing.. Lovin U, by Tanerelle ... HARLEM, NEW YORK
" SELAH!WE'RE GOING TO leave five minutes early so I can show you the setup so far," Medjine calls me from the bathroom, peaking her head out of the doorway with her brush in hand.
" Okay, that's fine," I respond, nodding my head at her words.
It didn't take Medjine long to take a quick shower, put on her dress, pull her hair into a neat low bun, and then start on her makeup. If anything, she did all of this in the span of thirty to forty five minutes. Since we were on a time crunch - because it was around eight o'clock by now - I knew that she wanted to get out of the room and head straight to the gallery as fast as possible.
And due to traffic, it would be better to leave early anyway. I walk over to my heels and clutch, strapping the heels in place as I tied the access fabric around my ankles. The skirt itself was long enough where you couldn't see the outline or detailing of the lace heels, you could only see the black band in the front.
As the night edged closer to the event, I could feel my heart skipping over itself. Beat after beat, drum after drum. I place on my hand to check if I was still breathing, If I was still alive and well.
Deep breathes.
I close my eyes, inhaling deeply. I hold in this breath for five seconds, then let it out slowly. I repeat this notion three times, the rapid beating of my heart finally coming back to a normal rhythm.
I open my eyes, remembering to ground myself in this moment. " Just relax, Selah." I thought to myself, " Just relax."
Medjine walks out of the bathroom, her heels clicking against the tiled floors and shifting against the contact of the carpeted floors. She held her phone close to her ear, rummaging in her duffel bag and pulling out two clutches: one black, the other a sage green. " Bonjou manmi... Wi mwen byen," She spoke softly in her native tongue. ( Creole: Hi Mom... Yes I'm fine.)
She glanced over to me, then mouthed ' grab the black clutch'. I nod my head and took it, sitting some deodorant and my phone inside. I felt some weight in the purse, but don't bother to look inside and see what else is in there. Whatever it was, it wasn't my business.
I also didn't care about bringing my charger because, well, Medjine always has an extra one on hand. She's like the mom of our trio who has everything we need. Deodorant, Tampons, Gum- everything that you could think of.
I especially appreciate that she carries extra deodorant with her because I absolutely hated the smelling musty. I don't understand how people can go anywhere with the smell of funk and onions coming from their armpits; it's disgusting.
