Islan-Dise

Wrist

90/365 days

December 12 2023

Islan

I don't recognize day from night. I lost count of how long I've been in here. Food was coming less and less. Some days they skipped me. Instantly I'm reminded of the days I went without eating and it's a feeling you never become accustomed to. A leak in the ceiling and the grumbles of my stomach are the only sounds I have. It never stops and it's beginning to drive me crazy.

I sit up, knees bended. I reek of musk, and my own feces, piled up in a toilet that doesn't flush. I can't remember the amount of times I puked up all my food, unable to stomach the odor.

I kicked the door so hard one night, repeatedly. I yelled to the top of my lungs. "Let me the fuck outta here!"

I punch the walls. Engaging in a fight I can't win. All I'm left with is bruised knuckles. I think I might have even broken my right hand. It had begun swelling, and extremely sensitive to touch.

Then my cries became more desperate. Like "Please, I can't take this shit no more."

Hope faded away, existing only in memory and all I have most days are bad ones.

Tre is hope. Tre is comfort. Tre is peace. I love him.
"You hear me baby? I love you" I say out loud. "I say things or do things sometimes, that may seem like I don't."

I think about Boon, Ebony, Egypt and Flip. My mom too...I still love her. I still want to help her. The little boy in me still believes she can change.

Can't she me?

I changed for Tre, couldn't Elaine change for us?

I even think about my dad. Well, the night my mom fucked and had me. I wonder if she was anything to him, or if I was anything to him? Did he hold me? Did he have a hand in choosing my name? Was he alive?

She never spoke much about him and if I asked it would turn into an argument.

Flash back

"What I ain't good enough?"

"Yeah mommy. You are." I cry at my 8th birthday. "All my friends dads are coming to the (Dads and kids breakfast) next week."

"He ain't coming. You can just stay home that day. I'll take you to Denny's."

I wipe my eyes. "Okay, mommy."

"Men don't cry. How many times have I told you that?" She lights my candles.

"It's okay Islan." Boon hugs me.

"Yeah, it k." Pea pats my back, then hands me her Ken Barbie.

"Thank you Pea."

"Welcome!" I pick her up and they help me blow out my candles.

"Happy Birthday dear Islannnn...Happy Birthday to youuuu!"

"Make a wish...." My mom says.

I watch for the door all day. Surely my dad won't miss another birthday. That has been my wish every year.

"I wish my dad would come to my birthday party."
••••

I always remember that birthday because afterwards she named me man of the house. Which is the stupidest shit a mom can do. I was only a kid and she was making me do everything. Then if I didn't perform to her standards. She would whoop me or berate me for hours.

So I leaned early how to suck it up and cry in private. "Men don't cry." Is all I ever heard in my head when I felt emotionally exhausted. Crying was for bitches and my mama said I wasn't allowed to be one.