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LOCATION: BALTIMORE, MARYLAND
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
DATE: SATURDAY, JUNE 8TH TIME: 5:40 p.m
𝐊𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐀 𝐓𝐔𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐆 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 her shoulder as she walked down the busy street to her destination. Different people walked past her as she continued to look forward, not wanting to draw any attention to herself than she already has.
After being at the house with everyone else, she realized it was about to get dark soon, and she wanted to leave to go check on her sisters before heading out for the night. What Samaria said really spoke to her, and she wanted to try harder to get closer to her younger siblings. No matter how bad her mother didn't want her around.
Her body shivered at the thought of how many clients she had to see today — wishing things would be different and she could just work a regular job to help out. Even though she tried, she didn't have any form of license or proof of a social security. So her hopes were always at a dead end.
Continuing walking, she turned down her neighborhood street which was called Fairfield Drive. The familiar neighbors standing outside as they waved at her; she smiles, exchanging the wave as she kept walking to her old apartment complex.
Her heart pounded as she stepped closer to the rundown building. The drug addicts were outside leaning up against the brick wall as they tried to contain their high. She ignores them and walks inside — the rusty wooden door opening with a loud creek as she walked up the stairs to the fifth floor where her mother's home was.
Speaking to the residents inside who walked past her, she finally made it to the familiar door number, 515, with a confused face, she noticed a yellow piece of paper sticking out of the door. Pulling it out, she unfolds the paper to reveal the big red letters she thought she'd never had to see soon.
THIRTY DAY NOTICE OF EVICTION...
The paper's date was June 4th, which was roughly four days ago. Puzzled, she instantly knocks on the door, mentally praying that someone would answer the door to let her know her family was still there.
She hears a few small feet run behind the door, so she quickly puts the paper in her pocket as her heart skips a beat when she thought about her younger siblings. There were a few whispers before the oldest child behind the door spoke loud enough for her to hear.
"Who is it?"
"I—." Kimora tries to fight the tears as she hears the familiar voice that she'd been longing to hear. "It's Kimora."
