Nomads

Prologue

"Nothing in life is easy, Desirae."

That was what a nice wise man once told me when I was younger. That wise man was none other than my own father.

My sperm donor.

The old man.

Mi padre.

Dad.

That was before he was murdered that chilly mid-September night back in '03. I remember that night like it's nothing. I mean it was the last night I spent with my father, right before my family fell apart.

"Desirae, dinner's ready!" my mom called out. I groaned annoyingly, as I turned off the television. I was in the middle of a new episode of Teen Titans, and was now going to miss what was going to happen to the Titans.

The kitchen smelt delicious with an aroma of the collard greens and fried chicken mom had finished prior to me stepping in. I took a seat at my usual spot at the kitchen table, beside dad's special chair. It wasn't long before he came through the front door, causing much commotion as he entered, with my older twin brother Richard right beside. Their matching curly hair and mischievous smirks were identical, which often caused people to call Richie, " Lil' Shaggy ".

I never really noticed the comparisons between the two back when I was younger, due to the Richie's creamy yellow complexion the both of us seemed to share at the time. But as I grew older, I noticed Richie was literally a spitting image of our father. I on the other hand seemed to inherit nothing from my parents beside my wild curly mane, just as out of control as my brothers, and creamy fair skin complexion.

"Hello." my father interjected, as he walked into the kitchen, pecking mom on the lips softly. She smiled before replying back with a quiet "Hey." staring deeply into his eyes.

I remember always childishly gagging when I saw my parents do the slightest bit of lip contact, but I would now kill to see the same smile he used to out on her face day and night.

Richie took a seat on the opposite side of the table before mom placed a heaping plate of dinner in front of the two of us. I breathed in the heavenly scent, not taking any chances to not quickly grab the fork off the table and dig in.

"Dang Desirae " My dad grinned, taking a seat beside me as he patted my back. "I see you was hungry." He added with a chuckle, taking a bite of his own meal.

"So how was soccer practice Richie?" Mom asked Richard, as she drew out the chair beside of him

"It was alright, same old same old. Coach yells about us not doing our best, and we continuously do the same things over and over." He complained with an annoyed eye roll.

"Why don't you just quit the team?" I questioned curiously, not understanding why Richie stayed on the soccer team if he seemed to hate it so much.

"I can't just give up on something I love just like that. My dream is to be a famous soccer player when I'm older." Richie replied bluntly with a small smile.

"But you complain about soccer everyday!" I responded with much anger in my voice, now getting really aggravated by Richard and his undecidedness.

"Desirae!" Mom interjected sternly, giving me the look she always used when I would say something she didn't like or plainly just wanted me to shut my mouth. I sighed, not bothering to say another word as I quietly finish my dinner. The table was silent, before dad finally broke the uncomfortable mood.

"Nothing in life is easy, Desirae." He informed me, as I nodded obediently. "Just because you don't like something, or think it'd difficult doesn't mean you could just give up like that. You gotta keep going until you reached your goal." He added, sounding as if he had just recited a verse from the bible or something for how wise he sounded.

"I guess I'll try to remember that later in life." I mumbled, as dad then smiled brightly kissing my cheek.

"That's my girl." He then raised from the table before dumping the chicken bones into the trashs, and placing the plate in the sink. He next opened the the fridge in search for a cold beverage with no luck. "Olivia, we're out of juice." Had complained with a groan.

"You wouldn't mind grabbing some from the supermarket around the corner, right?" mom questioned sheepishly with an uneasy smile. Dad shrugged before grabbing his jacket off the coat rack.

"Bye guys." He saluted before kissing both me and moms cheeks and patting Richies shoulder. "I'll be back in a few." He added before shining his signature mischievous grin.

"Be careful!" Mom interjected, with her usual look of worry. She knew the streets of Queens just wasn't where you would walk out at this time of night and not expect something to happen.

Who would of known that would have been the last of him? I was only eleven at the time, and now helplessly wondering what I am really doing with my life at twenty one. Three bullets to the chest just for his money, and I still question everyday if the asshole thought of him having a family back home waiting for him to come home that night. After dad's death, it hit the family pretty hard. Mom picked up a drinking addiction, and Richards grades began slipping drastically.

By the time we both entered high school was when things turned real sour. You could say I started hanging with the wrong crowd, but I would just blame it on everything else in life. My teachers weren't impressed by my actions at all. I mean if I was them I would be thinking the same. I was acting like a loose fifteen year old girl sophomore year and everyone around began knowing me as the class whore, and saying I would grow to be a prostitute.

Boy how they were right.

Now here I am, twenty-one year old prostitute, living on the streets of Toronto. My mom resides in and out of rehab for her addiction to drugs, cocaine to be exact, and Richard is more than likely off somewhere in Florida, selling drugs and rapping--since that was what he was doing back in Queens. That soccer dream was long gone with our father. Ever since he left everything has canged around me and my morals and views on life have disapared.

I, Desirae Charlotte Gordan, am a N O M A D.