Reform

C1 // backstory

The day my daddy died was crazy. I had to be around twelve years old, on the playground with Jasmine and Kya running through the dirt.

My pigtails flying high and the sun kissing my brown skin. Mama always called me her chocolate drop all the time because my skin was the color of a Hershey bar.

I knew I'd be in trouble when I got home because I was playing in my good clothes that mama bought me specifically for school. I was in for a good ass whooping when I got home and I knew it. I didn't care though. It was mid-august and summer was still here. I wanted to enjoy my after school festivities before they were snatched away from me by the cold winter.

A silver Impala pulled up. This was my mama's car. She had just got it for her daddy's first anniversary a few months ago.

I expected my mama but my aunt, Yasha, got out instead. Her bright face was red as a pepper and her eyes were even redder.

"Kea!" she called out to me. Her voice sounded hoarse, like she'd been yelling too loud. It was a habit for this to happen due to her being a cheerleader, so I thought nothing of it.

I went her way, dust just dirtying my white Air Force One's. I didn't care though, I knew like always I'd get another pair because Mama didn't raise no pigs and she damn sure doesn't want her baby looking like one in the streets. She cared about appearance almost as much as behavior.

When I reached Yasha, she gripped me in a tight hug, squeezing me like she hadn't seen me in ages. I smelled her sweet perfume while the cold medal of her necklace grazed my face. When I pulled back, I noticed her swollen face.

"What's wrong Ya?" I asked wiping her tears, making more pour as I did.

She bit her lips and closed her eyes, tears escaping as she did this.

She shook her head and took a deep breath, looking into the sky for some type of answer, before looking back at me.

"Miracle," she started taking another huge breath. "Your mama has some news for you baby, and.." she stopped as more tears gushed out of her face. She soon signaled for me to get inside the car and I obliged.

We left the country are we were in and headed for the city. The entire ride was quiet besides the usual noises of traffic.

Soon we arrived at Jackson Meridith Opal, the university hospital. I was puzzled. Why were we here? "Did something happen Ya?" I asked. I knew something had to happen for us to be at JMO. We never came to the city, let alone the hospital.

Yasha didn't say anything she just unbuckled her seat belt before getting out the car and coming over to grab me. She held my hand all the way to a sitting area, where all my family sat, besides my mom. They all held sickening faces stained by tears and hurt.

No one said anything, the just all looked at me before quickly looking away. Soon enough, my mom came out. She looked like a zombie. Her skin was flushed while her hair was wild.

I had never seen my mama like this before so I was scared. She looked at me and I could tell she regretted it.

She dropped to her knees and began throwing her guts up.

When she was done, she cried her eyes out. I could only look at her. That's all anyone around us could do; look at her.

A few nurses came and began helping my mama. One came and comforted her while two others began cleaning up the contents of her stomach.

I tapped my grandma on her shoulder. She had a look of hurt on her face as well.

"Gigi, what's wrong with mama? Is she okay?" I asked her. She wrapped her arms around my small frame and rubbed my arm. "Your daddy's gone Miracle."

"Where'd he go?" I asked cluelessly. I didn't understand anything right now. Daddy always left so why was now so different? He always came back, even when mama made him mad.

"He's dead!" My mama yelled. "He's dead!" she yelled repeatedly.

"Daddy?" By this age I understood alot of things. I knew the difference between the living and the dead.

A tear left my eye as my grandma wrapped her arms around me and hugged me tightly. I could still hear my mother's cries through the shock I was in.

His burial was soon after. A picture of him stood beside a wooden casket. Various colorful flowers surrounded the casket.

I stared at the picture almost throughout the entire burial. It was a picture that I took on my small Nikon camera. He was in the backyard with his Timberland Boots, a pair of blue jeans and a blue Polo shirt on.

Blue was daddy's favorite color.

He was smiling hard. I wanted him to be my model that day. I told him that he was the most handsomest man I've ever seen walking the face of the earth in my life and that he deserved to be in front of my camera.

When the preacher started talking about his life, I started to break down for the very first time.

I knew this was real, but it couldn't be. My daddy couldn't be gone. We never got the chance to go to the pool and swim until our skin got raw this summer. We never got around to riding our bike around the block endlessly like we did every week. We wouldn't be able to do anything of the things we talked about because he was no longer here and was never coming back.

Everything was happening way too fast and soon for my liking. Who knew I'd lose my first love this young?