The Help (MB)

Chapter 5

*Peyton's POV*

It's been a year now,and it seems as if our work is just going to waste. Mama is in the hospital now,getting her treatment,but it seems as if nothing is working. I want to go visit her badly, but we must work. She has to get better. The boys have lightened up on us a bit, and Mr. Johnson has been seeing another woman. He doesn't bring her around much, but she's very nice and pretty. The boys aren't fond of her at all, and I don't blame them. I wouldn't want anyone coming in and replacing my mother, especially after all they've been through. Ha. I should be the one talking,right?

Penny is about to turn nine in a couple of months,and she's just growing on up. She's befriended Craig, Mr. Johnson's youngest son, and on days that Mr. Johnson isn't here, I take on her duties so she can go outside and play with him. I think it's cute,the little relationship they have. Amaya and the afro kid are so much alike, i've come to see. He spends his days outdoors most of the time,sitting up in a tree and writing in a journal. They are both 13 now,and I see them sneaking glances at each other every now and then. She tries to act as if she isn't interested in him,but I can see right through her.

Kenya and Chresanto are still butting heads,and it is hilarious. She snapped on him one day when he kept bothering her by asking questions. She was trying to clean the front room when he had came in and plopped on the couch,watching tv. Kenya was dusting off the shelves and such. "Where are you girls from?" Chresanto had asked at first,and Kenya blandly replied, "Downtown." She never did look up from what she was doing. I had started to organize their CD's on the side of the tv,so I heard everything being said. "Is it fun down there? I heard it's very dangerous." He had commented,smirking. She glanced at him,then looked back at what she was doing,rolling her eyes. "Yea,it is dangerous,to people like you." She said,making me chuckle. I straightened up when Chres glared at her,then looked at me. "What do you mean by that?" He asked,looking at her. "I mean just as I said,Chresanto." She challenged.

He raised his eyebrows. "Did you have a job before this?" He asked,and she nodded. "Oh,what did you do?" He asked,and she smirked. "I worked at the local strip joint. Made much,but not enough." I tried to contain my laughter as he widened his eyes.

"Y-You were a stripper?" He asked,and she nodded,smirking. "Is that a problem,Chresanto?" She asked,looking at him. He stared at her a moment,then looked down. "No." He mumbled,and I had to leave the room,or I would laugh any minute now. I entered the kitchen,still eavesdropping on their conversation.

"Did you have a boyfriend back home?" He asked,and I giggled,but not loud enough for him to hear. "I don't think that's any of your business." She said,uninterested. "Guess that's a yes." He said,and they got quiet for a second.

"Have you ever had a job,Chresanto?" She asked,and he mumbled, "No,why?" She giggled. "Figured that." Soon,she was in the kitchen. She put the duster in the pantry and looked at me.

"What you laughing at?" She smirked. "You! You didn't even give him a chance!" I giggled. She laughed. "Whatever." She soon walked out,leaving me in the kitchen. I wiped down the counters.

Daniel had been sneaking some girl over on the days his dad had to work,and we each promised not to tell. She was a cute Latino,with long,jet black hair. I didn't like the glances she gave me,and the way she took advantage of us. It's always 'Go get me this' and 'Shouldn't you be cleaning something'. Her name was Kristina. Daniel's a nice guy,I dont see why he's with her. I think it has to do with looks,though. Seriously,she's every guy's dream girl. I just can't stand the bitch.

Ray is a very cocky little thing,and he loves to start random conversations with me. "Is your family mixed or something? Y'all all have the wild curly hair." He said,looking at me. I squinted. "Yes. My real mom was half indian." I would always roll my eyes at the thought of my real mom. "Real mom?" He asked,tilting his head. "Yes,real mom. She left us when I was only six." I rolled my eyes. He looked down,playing with his thumbs. "My mom gave me up for adoption when I was only three.." He mumbled. "I remember what she looked like though. She had this pretty,caramel skin complexion. Kind of like you. She had straight hair,though. That's all I remember." He would say,smiling sheepishly. I forgot that he was adopted. We kind of share the same backgrounds,then. Except for the fact that he grew up like......this. Huge mansion,money to spend carelessly,tons of friends. Anything a fourteen year old could dream for. And I didn't. I grew up in a small,two bedroom apartment. The only money we could spend was on clothes and food. Mainly from the thrift shop down the street. We had no huge bedrooms,no designer clothes. I snapped out of my thoughts as he called my name. I looked up at him. "You alright? You looked like you were zoning out a bit." He looked at me.

I nodded,chuckling. "I'm fine. It's just that,you. You're a very blessed person. Be thankful." I said,scaring myself at how helpless I felt. I looked down,beginning to sweep the floor. "Yea..." He mumbled,looking down. "I just.... Sometimes I wish.... Nevermind.." He said,looking away. I squinted my eyes. "You wish what?" I asked,looking at him. "......I wish she would've never gave me away..." He said,barely audible. My heart ached. I felt the same way,but at a lower extent. My mom didn't even care enough as to put us into an adoption agency,she just up and left. That made me angry,angry that someone would do such a thing. He stood and left the kitchen,leaving me standing there and thinking.

I looked back down and started back sweeping. Maybe everyone doesn't have everything together. This isn't a perfect world,that's for sure. I just figured,that since they lived big and rich,everyone would be happy. Turns out,I was wrong.

~ This one is kind of short. Sorry.

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