The Sequel to Burns&Bruises
Embark on a poignant journey with Maleek Montique, once a baby now a man shaped by a traumatic past. Thirteen book years post the Burns & Bruises saga, witness the evolution of the once tiny baby into a formidable figure...
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Tuesday, December 24th 12:18 pm 📍Salisbury|St. Andrew 🇯🇲
𝚉𝚘𝚕𝚊𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐
Back pressed against the door with a tight hold on Maleek's hand. My eyes follow intentively my mother's every step.
Crouched over, she hauls clothes up from the basket forcing them inside her suitcase.
A huff of what might be hatred passes through her flared nostrils every time she takes a step. I slack my shoulders leaning my head on Maleek's shoulders, his fingers wrap firmly around my hand squeezing it in comfort.
Heads turned we connect gazes, mine glinting with pity.
Today's the day that I might see my mother for the last time—if she decides to not get the help she needs.
It's more than hard to accept, I never saw the day when I would be watching my mother pack her bags out of my life.
Listening to her struggle to gather every article that she owns has been painful too—because Maleek has ordered me not to help.
"Yuh heart too soft and she'll play right inna yuh face. Then yuh come and bawl seh yuh if only yuh did know." He lectured early this morning when she called to come pick up her things.
So here we are 2 weeks after I told her that I wanted nothing to do with her.
"Mi nuh thief ennuh. Suh mi no see why the two a unuh post up a door a watch mi like mi aguh tek up nothing weh nuh belong to me." Mommy argues standing with her first suitcase sealed.
Hands posed on her hips, she angles her head to the side. Eyes filled with fury and disgust. She opens her mouth to argue her case even further and Maleek lets go of a soft chuckle with a light wag of his head.
I quickly slide myself in front of him.
He can be brutal when pushed, mouth nuh good and while mommy and I have our differences I would hate for him to disrespect her in front of me. At the end of the day, she's still my mother and Zaylee's grandmother.
Zay's cries perforate the walls behind us providing some relief to the tension that had started to loom above us like a ghost.
Thank God!
I swivel on my feet facing Maleek's hooded eyes. "Can you?" I point in the direction of Zoey and he nods hissing.
