Things Are Changing

Where the Road Begins

The sky had just began to darken as Ava-Monroe settled down in front of the rather large television set in the living room, under the pretenses that she was beginning her homework. Ava and her mother, Val Richards, both knew that she wasn't getting anything completed. Ava-Monroe attempted to toss her unkempt black curls into a ponytail, while she watched her favorite Tuesday night sitcom. Her hair was in a neat two braid style when her parents sent her out the door that morning, but due to all the foolishness of childhood, they diminished throughout the day to her usual tresses of mess. When her mother came out of the kitchen to check on Ava- Monroe's process, Ava quickly pressed her pencil to paper, screwing her face into a look of concentration. All Valencia could do was laugh at her daughter, she was too much like Val's twin sister, Valerie, she was mischievous and brilliant, some times to a fault. Despite, Victoria being the problem child during Valencia's childhood, Val had been the one to get pregnant at seventeen and completely ruin her plans to go to university and become a proper doctor; instead she went to nursing school and became certified. Though it wasn't her original dream, she was happy with her life. She ended up marrying her baby father when Ava was six, she was helping people for a career, and she had an intelligent daughter who was learning far above her grade level. What more could she ask for?

Valencia plucked the large universal remote off of the living room coffee table and flicked the television off, "You know the rules, La Reina," she used Ava-Monroe's middle name, which meant 'The Queen' in Spanish. Valencia was half Colombian on her father's side and half African-American on her mother's side. In many ways, Ava looked just like her; from the dark curls falling down their backs, Ava's being slightly longer, to the smooth sepia skin that was golden, due to her healthy fill of vitamin D. Even at a young age, Ava was developing her mother's womanly curves; which excited many gun and date jokes from her father, Quentin Richards.

"I know, Mamá, but it was a new episode! Chase was about to ask Stacy to prom!" Ava pouted her bow shaped lips that were gently coated with gloss that Quentin didn't know his daughter was wearing yet. Valencia narrowed her chestnut eyes at her daughter, giving her what her daughter unfortunately called "The Butt Whooping Stare." So effortlessly, Ava quickly shut up and focused her dark eyes on her advanced mathematics homework. Valencia smirked and waltzed back into the kitchen, calling "Te amo," over her shoulder. She began making dinner for her family, an arrangement of homemade pasta and toasted garlic bread. It was one of her husband's favorites and she figured he deserved it after working a hard day in the office. The afternoon carried on uneventfully. Ava eventually sauntered into the kitchen to help her mom cook due to her show already ending for the night. The pair was sitting at the kitchen table, with Valencia teaching Ava some Spanish, since she wanted her child to be bilingual. The land line rang by the oven, Ava rushed to answer it. She looked to her mother briefly after picking up the phone, "Hola, que haya alcanzado los Richards. Hi, you've reached the Richards." She smiled brightly as she translated. It was her uncle, Rufus Turner, who was her mother's half -brother from Ava's grandmother. Valencia heard an engine approach the house, she left the kitchen, with Monroe on the phone with her uncle, and went to greet her high school sweetheart. The car door was slammed from outside, Val grimaced she assumed that Quentin had a bad day. When he came to the door it was unlocked and her filtered in the house. He closed the door quickly shutting them into their humble abode. Val greeted him with a smile. Quentin was a tall man, with deep brown skin and surprisingly green eyes, that Val basically opened her legs for. He was the hot boy next door when she was fifteen and she foolishly fell for it and bedded him and on the first time having sex, of course, she got pregnant. What other kind of luck would a girl with ethic roots in the inner city befall on? She approached him to give him a kiss, but was shocked by his response. Quentin brought back a calloused hand and struck Valencia so hard across the cheek, it sent her spiraling into the walls of the small foyer, the pictures that hung on the walls began to rattle and one lone frame fell and shattered around her.