Savage Black was born and raised in Harlem, New York for half her life. After her father passes away from Parkinson's Disease, two months later her mother loses her job. Now at the age 21 struggling to make ends meet, Savage tries to make her dreams...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Savage__
I enter the house seeing Phoebe on the computer, filling out applications I'm assuming. I hope that's where she's been since coming from Avant's this morning. I'm still iffy about that, and y'all know Ima ask. I hang my book bag up, taking off my hoodie and hanging that up as well. I enter the kitchen and grab a bottle of water, sitting beside her. She side eyes me, cutting her eyes back to the screen.
"What do you want?" She snarls.
"What were you doing at Avant's this morning?" I question. Phoebe screws her face up, jolting her head back.
"Didn't your mother ever tell you to stay in a child's place?"
"I'm 21." I inform dryly. She rolls her eyes, typing in her information. There she goes with those lazy eyes again.
"Big whoop! Look little girl get out my face." She spits, irritated.
"Not until you tell me what you were doing at Avant's?" I tell her sternly. She sighs in annoyance, turning her attention to me.
"I went to Avant's to snort some coke aight! I've be itching for some for two days and he sold a little to me. You happy?" She questions upset.
"I could of swore mama said she didn't want you doing that shit in her house." I tell her standing to my feet.
"Yes she did, but that doesn't mean I can't snort nowhere else now does it?" She sasses, standing to her feet. I look at her up and down in disgust as she kisses her teeth with her tongue.
"How'd you pay for it?" She came here two days ago saying she didn't have no where to go, so how you pay for coke if you don't have the money? Phoebe squints her eyes, stepping to me and I back up.
"Why are you so worried about me and this Avant nigga? You like him or something?" She questions, tilting her head.
"No. He's in a relationship and his girlfriend told me to keep an eye on him." I lie. Phoebe places her hand on her hip with pursed lips.
"Mm. Well if you must know, I had a little money in my purse. That's how I paid for it. I didn't sleep with him is that's what you thought. It's not like I could do anything anyway." She mumbles, making her way to the kitchen. I follow behind her, watching her take her flask out the refrigerator.
"Why not?" I question.
"Why what! You know you ask a lot of gotdamn questions!" She retorts, tears brewing in her eyes. I shrug my shoulders, playing with my fingers in front of me.
"Why can you not have sex?" I mumble. Phoebe sighs heavily, resting her hand on her lower back, looking up at the ceiling as she fans herself.
"I have AIDS ok! I've had it for a couple months now. I didn't know the person had the disease and he wasn't going to tell me either. That's why my husband divorced me. Any more got damn questions?" The tears race her cheeks as she sniffs. I shake my head no, tucking my lips. She snatched her flask off the table, walking around me back to her laptop in the living room.
