Survive This Life

Chapter 2

Micheal in MM

Mi padre, Emanuel, is the main source of income for our family.
He works at a granola bar factory. Yeah I know, nothing fancy.

My mom has alot of health issues, so she doesn't have a full time job. She works odd jobs for our friends and neighbors.

We live in a small, beaten - up apartment on the rougher side of LA.

It ain't to bad, I mean, at least we have somewhere to stay. I know we don't have much of anything, but Abuela always said to be grateful for the things we have.

R.I.P- Abuela Leyla, I love you.

~

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~

I heard a knock on my bedroom door, breaking me from my thoughts, and I wiped a stray tear that has appeared on my tan skin.

"Come in!," I yelled at whoever was on the other side.

My 17 year old brother walked in, staring at the empty Doritos bag on the floor.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT MICHEAL," I yell at him.

"Mi hermana, clean this mess up. Now," he said sternly.

"REALLY BRUH IT'S ONE THING!" I reply.

"You heard me. Clean this mess of a room up," he stared into my soul. He got that from Mama.

He always treated me like his daughter, even though he's only 2 years older than me. It's how we role.
I guess he just likes to protect me.

He is my backbone.

I obeyed him and threw the 8 day old bag in the trash.

Why are you so disgusting?

Hey, I try my best, Okay.

You might be wondering why I listen to him. It's because he helps me with whatever, buys me whatever, and always tells me, "don't settle for a man that treats you any less than I do,". It's the least I could do.

It really is.

That's the main reason I've only had one relationship.

Can you really even call that a relationship?

Shut up.

I don't know where he gets all this money from, to buy me all of this expensive brands. Especially because we all share one car, a 20 year old thing that barely gets anywhere.

I glance at my digital clock that's lying on my dresser, next to the golden cross bracelet given to me from my abuela.

10:42pm. Dang. I better get ready for bed.

I walked over to the bathroom we all shared and proceeded to take out my contacts and wash the generic brand makeup of my face.

Oh how I envy those girls privileged enough to get all the expensive actually good quality makeup that doesn't make you break out like mine does.

Micheal won't buy it for me because, "you still gotta be independent even though I get you presents," he says as he winks micheaviously at me.

I always wanted to become a makeup artist.

I guess that'll never happen.

I finished up my nightly routine and hopped in bed. Today was.....Saturday. yes, another day!!

~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~

I wake up at 7:30 am from my buzzing alarm clock screeching loudly and making me cringe.

Yes. It's only Sunday.

I walk down stairs just to hear my phone do a little ding and buzz. I run back to my room, snatched my phone, and quickly unlocked it.

Yvy😂😘💩👌: come over.

Oh no. Something must be wrong.
Maybe her dad, mom, sister, brother? What could've happened.

The worst ran through my mind.

Jason.
Hey I was gonna say that!!

I walked over to her apartment, because Yvy lives only 3 blocks away.

It was the same size as mine. The old bricks were starting to fall out and leave holes like how there were holes in their families.

I quietly chuckle at my clever metaphor.
First of all, it was a similie, and secondly, it was not even that clever.

I role my eyes at myself.

I run up the stairs and rapidly bang on her old, rusty door with no door handle.

"HEY!," I hear someone yell. "I GOTTA GUN AND I FO' SHO' AIN'T AFRAID TO SHOOT!!!". Her dad.

"It's me, Mr. Willis. Emeli." I reply softly. Not timidly, just soft.

I heard a sigh of relief and saw his caramel colored skin peer through the door.

"I'm here to see Yvonne, sir." I stated confidently.

"One sec please baby girl," he said warmly.

"YVONNE GET YO LITTLE TAIL DOWN HERE!" he projected his voice around the whole house. If my mom was here she would've slapped him dead.

"Bring her up!" She cracked. She was on the verge of bursting into tears, I could tell.

It's Jason isn't it.

I ran passed Mr. Willis and up the stairs to her small but decent room.

She had light pink walls and a bed at the far corner. That was basically it.

I slowly inched open the door and stepped onto her cream carpeting.

"Yvonne!"
She busted into tears.
I ran towards her and grabbed her face to look at me.
I could tell she was ashamed, her hands covering her eyes.

"Yvonne baby what's wrong?" I say, being sure to accentuate my concern.

She said two words. I thought I heard her wrong. My body filled with anger, disgust, and disappoinment, along with many more undescribable emotions. Not necessarily towards her.

"I'm pregnant." She said.

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