Live To Tell

Prologue

Prologue

      I open the heavy, dark-brown door and with a deep, needed inhale I walk to my latest, trendy couch which I acquired few months ago. I sit down and with a reflex I brush a brown strand behind my ear as I look around at the people who were fixing their cameras and lights, for the big, long-lasting interview I am going to do. I watch them, all absent, because my mind was far away in thoughts. I sigh as I move to sit on the armchair. It's smaller and more comfortable so I can curl up and bring my knees underneath, feeling more protected and less exposed.        

    My name is Brooklyn Anne Shakur, I am a model, an actress and former rapper and I am going to do an interview about my life... It was a hard, hard decision to make. It took me 16 years... and a life completely in silence before I decided to chronologically display the events which marked my entire existence until the very present. It's not easy for me, to go back in time and live, for two hours, the purest and the most bittersweet memories that have changed me completely and helped me became a mature, all grown woman. It happened fast, in a blink of an eye, and its mark I still feel them all over the environment. The house is the same as 16 years ago, with different furniture, in different time. But the bedroom... my bedroom... his bedroom... our bedroom is the same. I didn't change anything, same bed, same bed sheets, same desk he used to write, same windows, and same books on the bookstand. In the closet, his clothes are still hanging and if I try hard, they still smell like him. But time has past over them all, and they look old and dusty, but the memories that keep me linked with that room, I just can't simply forget. I will never forget. From day one to the last day, which meant the end of a big part of me, I've been through a long process of acceptance my fate. A simple teenage girl, from South Central, Los Angeles, took the big, most important part, of what had to be the biggest gang war of all time: West Coast vs East Coast. It was just about music, but the latest events, that took everything away from me, had to let me know that it wasn't just music. It was more than I would have ever understood at that time.

    -Brooklyn, are you ready? I hear a kind voice and I immediately snap out of my stare. I look at the not too old, blonde woman, with brown eyes which were reflecting kindness and I nod slightly. Don't be scared. I know it's a little bit difficult for you, but I'm here to help you speak, ok? She takes my hand and squeezed it softly. Martha Raddatz is a professional reporter, I knew that, but I felt that the relationship between us that day wasn't just that. She tries to get closer to me, so I can feel comfortable and tell everything with relief. The interview is not only going to answer a lot of question people had about me, but it will give clues and explanation of my behavior and my husband's behavior through the time. Here, take this tea. It will help you calm down. She hand me a warm mug with hot tea in it. I take it with shaky hands and sip from it without saying anything. The reporter gives me a kind look before she grabs her chair and sits down, legs crossed. The notebook she had in her lap made me a little bit nervous. I prepared a series of questions that will help you go through your story easily. Are you ready? She's looking in my blue eyes now and I see a powerful light out of nowhere. I'm terrified. If I'm ready? I never was, never will be.

   - Let's start. I nod.