TORN

Ayanna

Ayana

"Damn!" I said as I saw the fine ass dread head walk in. I stared at him as he and his boys sat a table near the back. His eyes met mine, and he winked. I tried to act like I didn't notice, so I quickly turned my attention to my best friend Jaquan, Slinky.

    "Ya-Ya, I see you looking at that nigga. Looking like a dear caught in headlights," Slinky said letting out a little laugh.

    Then he became serious. (Mood swings like a bitch). 

    "I didn't come here to have lunch with you and that nigga. Now eat the rest of your food, or bring it with you, so we can go! I gotta meet somebody by three."

    I glanced down at my phone on the table. It was fifteen after two. I still had time to find out more about this dread head. Once again I found myself looking toward the back of the restaurant. He was so bad. I had to know more about him.

    I looked at Slinky, took a sip of my sweet tea, and asked, "Who is he?"

    "His name is COME THE FUCK ON!"

    I knew Slinky was mad now. I didn't like it when he was like this. It reminded me of my mama when she was yelling at me after she had just sniffed some crack. By Slinky acting this way caused a memory to pop into my head. A memory I did not want to be there. The day my mama died.

    My mama was my everything; my only thing. I didn't have a father like all the other kids in my neighborhood. My mama was my daddy.

    My mama was a beautiful black woman. She had long jet black hair that complemented her brown, round, eyes. Her features were flawless. She had the skin color of honey just like me. Her body was very curvaceous. Every time my mama stepped into a room, it lit up. All of these things changed when she became a crack fiend.

    She had to have it all the time. I don't know what made her start using it, but she did. There were days we would go without eating because she had took the money to go buy some crack. This is when Slinky stepped into the picture. Well his mom anyway. Slinky was the same age as me, nine.

    Slinky's mom, Ms. Jackson, began to take the place of my real mama. Everyday after school I would just go to Slinky's house instead of mine. Slinky and I would do our homework, play, and eat dinner together. That's when I officially made him my best friend. The only one I had.

    One day I decided to go home before going to Slinky's. I walked into the house calling for my mama, but there was no answer. I figured she was out buying crack. I walked into my bedroom to get some night clothes and school clothes to stay at Slinky's. That's when I found my mama sleeping on my bed, or so I thought.

    I walked over to her and tried to say "hey," or let her know of my presence.

    "Mama." I called out.

    No response.

    "Mama!"

    She still was not responding.

    "MAMA!!!!!!" This time I was shaking her, hard. 

    She just lay there.

    I quickly ran out of the house over to Slinky's. I had to get somebody to help me wake my mama up.

    "Mama Jackson! My mama isn't waking up," I said as soon as she opened the door.

    "What do yo mean she is not waking up, " she asked confused.

    "I just went home and she was laying on my bed i tried to wake her up, but she won't get up." I quickly ran back over to my house.

    My mama was still laying on my bed the way I had left her. Mama Jackson was right behind me.

    "Oh Dear," she gasped. She pushed me out of the way to go check on my mama.

    I fell to the floor hard. I began to cry. I didn't know what to do.

What if my mama was dead? My real mama. Would it be my fault? I didn't even tell her I loved her.

    "Aria!" Mama Jackson called out.

    No responce.

    "AYANA, CALL 9-1-1! NOW!" Mama Jackson yelled at me.

    I ran to the kitchen, and bumped into Slinky.

    "What's going on," he asked.

    "I gotta call 9-1-1!" I said grabbing the house phone of the base.

    "Why?" He asked nervously.

    "My mama won't get up!" I said with tears coming down my face.

    Slinky had gone into the room with his mama.

    "This is 9-1-1. What is your emegency?" The operator asked.

    "My mama won't wake up. She is just laying there," I said with tears stremming down my face.

    "How old are you, and what's your name?"

    "My name is Ayana. I'm nine years old."

    "Okay Ayana. I need you to go check to see if your mom has a pulse."

    "What?!" I did not know what she was talking about.

       I ran to give Mama Jackson the phone. I heard tell the operator there was no pulse. 

    I knew my mama was dead. My only flesh and blood that cared about me. Even though my mama was a crack fiend, I still loved her, but she wouldn't know that 'cause she was dead. 

    I went up to the counter and asked for a to-go box. I placed the rest of my General's chicken and Lo Mein in the box, and headed out along with Slinky.

    I still couldn't stop thinking about that dread head.

    Slinky walked me to my car. He didn't say a single word. He was foreal deal mad.  Am I supposed to look at females? I don't think so. STRICTLY DICKLY! Plus I don't say nothing to him about alll of his stank female friends. But it's whateva'. He would get over it.

    I sat in my car for a while. I was lettig the AC circulate. I reclined my seat seat back and day-dreamed about Mister Fine-ass.

Then there was a knock on my window. I thought it was Slinky comming back to apologize, so I didn't pay the knock no mind. But it wasn't Slinky. It was the dread head.