Undead

4; uncle duties [TW]

TRIGGER WARNING...

Lexapro for my depression. Abilify for my schizophrenia. And an occasional Xanax to help me sleep at night, although I took them more than I was probably supposed to. But I wasn't addicted - not yet, anyway. I'd been through quite a few periods of addiction to these pills, only because they made me feel like I was flying. I felt like a superhero, indestructible and able to do anything. Which is probably why I'd been to rehab twice.

I washed down two of the pills with a small cup of water, and let out a deep sigh. I still had a few hours before heading into work, so Mijo and I agreed to meet up. His kids, my niece and nephew, were out of school for summer break, so he was home most of the day anyway.

Mijo was doing a lot better than I was. Mentally and physically. He made beats for a living and often times traveled out of the city to work with different rappers and singers in the studio, and he was a songwriter on top of that. Whenever he was gone, though, our foster mom and I shared the responsibility of looking after the kids. During the day while Akila and I were at work, our mom kept them, and they'd be back with us at night - the cycle would repeat the next day.

Where was their mother?

She and Mijo didn't get along, but they got along enough to have two children together. It was a simple love-hate relationship between the two. I didn't know much about her but I think I remember him telling me that she was a stripper - which is how they met. Crazy right? Mijo didn't argue about breaking up, but he begged her to not keep his children away from him. She obliged, giving him custody of both of them. She only came around to help him with expenses - even though he didn't need any help - and he was nice enough to let her visit whenever she wanted.

But now Mijo was single with two kids. It was admirable, though. He loved his kids more than breathing.

I rang his doorbell with my free hand, shifting the shopping bag behind my back to hide it from curious eyes. It took all of two seconds for the door to swing open, and a small child collided with my thighs. "Uncle Chris!"

Maleah, the younger of the two, was a ball of energy with wild hair and the brightest brown eyes - just like her dad's. She was six years old and made sure everybody knew it. She owned a piece of my heart and got whatever she wanted - especially from me, her favorite, and only, uncle. "Hi princess."

Like I expected, she tried peering around me to look into the bag, but I held it out of her reach and teased her. Her hair was a wild mess all over her head, and she wore a giant shirt. There was dried drool on her chin, so I figured she had just woken up. "I missed you!"

"I missed you too," I murmured, and I followed her into the house, closing the front door with my foot. "Did you just wake up?"

Instead of answering me, she turned away from me. "Daddy! Uncle Chris is here!" See what I mean by energy? Just woke up and it was like she was already hyped up on sugar. "Yes I just woke up. Daddy's helping Mylen brush his teeth and then it's my turn."

I placed the chocolate ice cream and whipped cream into the freezer and refrigerator before she could see what it was, and I helped her up onto the counter. "Oh yeah?" I wet a paper towel and squeezed the water out, tipping her chin up and wiping her mouth. "Did your dad just wake up too?"

She squirmed away from me and whined dramatically. "Nuh uh, he woke up really early! When the sun was still down!"

Either he got up to smoke a blunt or he was making music. Probably both.

She stared up at me and her pupils dilated, her lip pouted. "Uncle Chris?"

"Yeah, what's up?" I didn't like the way she was looking at me, like she was about to cry.