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Disclaimer & Trigger warning:
This content may include explicit material. It is recommended that individuals who are sensitive to certain themes exercise caution while reading as the content may be disturbing or upsetting.
Contains: abuse, neglect, drug/narcotic use, alcohol consumption, panic/anxiety attacks, violence, strong language, and 18+ content.
Read at your own risk.
Thank you for reading and enjoy the story.
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"I rock rough'n stuff with my Afro puff."
-Lady of Rage, Afro puffs
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1989
"Hey Brady, the boy!" The kids on the school bus teased Brady. Bad-ass Javon was the ringleader of bullying Brady. Tears went down her cheeks as she put her head in her knees, wishing the teasing would stop. She cried at school often making her an easy mark for the other kids.
Brady hated her name.
She was given the middle name, Israelle by her aunt. Valerie felt since she'd have a "boy's name" she needed a "girly" middle name. Since Valerie had no children of her own and loved the name Israelle, she gave it to Brandt to give to Brady. The name carried deep meaning of faith and struggle.
--And boy was she struggling right about now.
Brady was barely beginning puberty at the age of twelve and it sucked. Unfortunately, everyone had to go through their ugly duckling phase. While the other girls were getting silk presses, her dad was doing her hair in lopsided pigtails still. It was the only style he ever mastered.
Brady was obsessed with Punky Brewster, so she often tried to dress like her. Bright colors and funky-looking socks, which of course kids would often pick at her for that as well.
The boys in school would pull girls training bra straps around the classroom. Once they got to Brady they yelled, "She's not ready for a Bra Yet!"
The endless jokes about her name and appearance compared to the other girls in her grade made her feel awkward and insecure. The kids on the bus continued to pick on her and the driver couldn't get to her house fast enough for her.
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Valerie stood down the street from her house to wait for Brady to get off the school bus. Per usual Brandt had gotten tied up at work and asked Valerie to fetch her.
Valerie watched as the yellow bus pulled up and a smile plastered across her face.
"Hi baby doll, how was—"
Brady got off the bus and immediately ran past her and straight into her house.
Valerie furrowed her brows in confusion and worry.
She followed behind her and saw her plop face-down onto her bed and heard her sobbing. Valerie sat next to her and placed a comforting hand on her back.
"What's wrong Brady? What happened at school today?"
YOU ARE READING
ANGEL
General FictionBrady, brought up in the ghetto streets of Oakland California was born to an absent drug addicted mother, and ends up being raised by her single father. Brady's world is all of a sudden rocked when her father dies, and she is left all alone. Forced...
