ILWMH [DISCONTINUED]

Back Home

Back home, on East Pauline St. I was coming home to being closure to why I was the black sheep of my family. I haven't spoke to my family in a year. It was actually ripping me apart.

It brought tears in my eyes as I saw my childhood home and Lorenzo's right down the street.  I knocked on the door a few times before my mother had opened it up with a cigarette in her mouth.

"Oh. It's your ass," she said letting me in.

"Well, where is Dad?," I wondered out loud. Not much has changed since I left. It was just weird and awkwardly quiet.

"He's locked up. They caught him on the corner. He was about to sell dope to an undercover cop," she explained blowing smoke in my face.

My heart dropped to my stomach. He's been the dopeman even before I was a baby. The crack epidemic was tearing us blacks apart. It was tearing my family apart.

"I'm actually glad you came back home. Yes, you can finally take over our empire because, I'm too tired for this shit," she proposed the idea as she poured the tube of powder on an Barry White record.

"Mom, what are you doing?," I asked not believing what I was seeing. It was sad that she threw her life away by slanging yayo for a total of 15 years, but, the icing on the cake was she was getting high off her own supply.

"I wanna live a little," she groaned after doing two lines.

"Why are you doing this!?," I yelled crying.

"You think a bitch like you is too good to see where the fuck you came from? Don't think because you're sucking dick for a check doesn't mean you're a star," she spat harshly.

"You know what? I'm tired of you always putting me down. You know what I think? You're jealous that someone shows me more love than you ever had in your entire life. Jealousy is a terrible disease," I furiously went in.

"I hate you. I fucking hate you, Shanya. Too bad, the clinic was closed," she laughed snorting another line.

I'm not even going to cry or give her the time of day. I'm happy exactly where I am. It really didn't matter what she said.

"Goodbye, mother," those were the last words I said to her before I left.
                 ^^^^^^^^^^^^^

"It was on this street where we had our first conversation," I reminisced.

"Oh yeah. You were always trying to hang out with E and I," he remember as his eyes scanned through the park.

"No I didn't," I denied.

Febuary 1, 1983

"Hey Lorenzo," I approached. I always seen him down the street taking out the trash or even at school sometimes clowning in the hallways.