Chapter 3

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"God, I get it. I'm a mess and I admit it. Whoa, I keep learning the same lessons while I'm missing out on blessings."

- God, I Get It by K. Michelle

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Aubrey sat up slowly and looked around. Cold darkness creeped throughout the room except for the light that seeped past the dingy curtains. She groaned inwardly before waddling towards the light switch. She flicked it on and walked away. She stopped in her tracks when she noticed the room was still dark. Looking up, she expected for the light bulb to slowly flicker on, but to no avail. She huffed tiredly when she realized the lights wouldn't come on and then looked over at Junior, hoping not to wake him.

"Ugh, why do you hate me so much, God? Why?" she ceased her ragged breath after noticing that there was a knock at the door.

She peeped through the door hole as best as she could and furrowed her eyebrows. "Miss Wilson, we know you're in there," a voice bellowed.

"Who the hell is that?" Aubrey whispered to herself.

Before she opened the door she took a quick gaze down at her attire. She flattened out the wrinkles in her clothes a little and tried to tame her hair with her fingers and took a deep breath. She opened the door with a fake smile plastered on her face.

"Miss Aubrey Wilson?" one of the men asked, there were two.

"Yes?" she asked, blocking the doorway. Aubrey could tell they weren't cops by their business attire so she wasn't letting them in and she wasn't letting them see in. She slightly glanced back at the room door to make sure Junior was still in the bed. She really hoped they wouldn't wake him.

"Umm... We are truancy. I'm Sam and that's Lawrence..." Lawrence nodded slightly in acknowledgment. "... Is your son here?"

"No, he is with his father. May I ask what I have done to deserve this lovely visit?" she asked with a false statement and false enthusiasm.

"Well, it's regarding your son's absences and tardies. It's coming to point where we might have to take you in for custody," Sam said shamelessly.

"Me?" she asked, taken aback. She might have been late on picking him up, but never taking him to school. If anything she should be in trouble for letting him stay at school longer.

"Yes, it says—" Lawrence was cut short.

"That is not possible. It must be his father because—"

"Well, you have full custody over your son so his attendance is your responsibility. It is your choice to hand your son over to his father," Lawrence explained.

"But—"

"Sorry, but if this continues we may have to call Child Protective Services," Sam said and with that they both turned on their heels and walked down the hallway.

She stood there too shocked for a moment before turning around and slamming the door. A huff of stress managed to slip from her lips as she walked towards the kitchen. She was highly upset, but she had to be quiet and keep down. Junior needed his sleep. She dragged her hand down her face in irritation and went to grab a glass. She held the glass under the faucet and turned the knob, but nothing came out. She scoffed at it for a second before trying again, this time turning it a numerous amount of times.

"Dang it!" she mumbled after putting the glass down and setting her hands on her wide hips. She looked over at her stove before sighing. I hope it works...

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