Skye:
I was still heated about that bitch ass nigga at the rec center. How dare he talk about my child like that. My son is strong. He ain’t never been weak. I told him that he couldn’t be weak because that’s how you let people take control of you. And if he’s my son, nobody’s going to be the boss of him but himself… and me. But yall know what I’m saying.
I grabbed the half eaten cup of noodles I got from the corner store for us to eat and handed it to Jordan. “Dang ma, you ate a lot of these. There’s not that much left for me,” he fussed. I sighed and gave him my last pack of peanut butter crackers to make up for it. I needed to get this money some way. Some how.
I closed the blinds to my apartment bedroom. “After you eat them crackers you need to go put your pajamas on. It’s almost 10:30. You gotta wake up tomorrow so I can take you to the rec.” He looked at me like I was crazy. “Ma… I don’t want to go back to that thing. The guy that was assigned as my ‘older brother’ is mean. He doesn’t care bout anything but himself,” he explained.
Looking and listening to Jordan, he sounded more and more like his father as he grew up. His father, Anthony, was a good man in general. Well at least before he just dipped out on us. We had the baby when I was only 16. Still living with my parents. I remember the day I told my mother that I was pregnant. Boy did she wild me out but she was supportive through the whole thing. Oh and get this, I thought by the time I had the baby she was really over the pregnancy.
I laugh every time I tell this story. It was a couple weeks after I had the baby. My mother for that couple weeks was taking care of the baby and nurturing her like a grandmother would. Then one day I just had got out the shower. She was standing in the bathroom when I got out the shower with her hands behind her back. “You okay ma?” I asked her. She nodded her head. “I’ll be great after this,” she said, before pulling a belt from behind her back. Boy did she whip my ass that day. And my body was wet too. Lord, that was the worst ass whipping I ever got. But I understand why she would be upset though.
Every time I think about that day almost 8 years ago, I laughed because she said a word with every time the belt came in contact with my skin. YOU.smack.THOUGHT.smack.I.smack.WASN’T.smack.GONNA.smack.WHIP.smack.YOUR.smack.ASS.smack.HUH?
Her voice going through my head almost made me tear up because about a year after I had Jordan, my father just got up and left us. Then after he left, my mother became depressed and started to do drugs. Then she became a full out crackhead. Never saw her in the house after a while. I don’t know where she is now. I haven’t seen her here in Los Angeles since she became a crackhead 7 years ago. I moved in with my aunt and Jordan’s father was still with me. He was still taking care of Jordan and everything. Then that’s when he left. I cried for weeks straight. My whole support system was just gone within 3 years of Jordan’s birth.
The only person I did have left was my aunt but she died last year from cancer. And that’s why I’m in the predicament I am now. No money, broke down apartment, and not being able to pay my damn rent.
I closed my journal that I’ve been writing in since Jordan’s father left 5 years ago and grabbed my cell phone off the dresser. I called a good friend of mine to talk to her about things. You may ask if I have a good friend, why doesn’t she help me out? Let me tell you because she needs help her damn self. She’s a prostitute but she does it to get what she needs, not cause she wants to.
“Hey Tiff, can you talk or are you busy? I know it’s late and those are your ‘business’ hours?” I asked when she answered. “Yeah, I can talk for a little bit. Why what’s wrong?” she asked, sounding concerned. “Well, I’m stressed. I don’t know what to do. Rent is due in 2 weeks and I have no kind of money to pay it.”
