Speechless

Chapter 2: Him

I didn't know what the hell her problem was...

Of all people to attack in the morning, she just had to pick me?

I was in the backroom of the cafeteria tryna figure out what to do with my clothes since they had bleach on them.

I didn't even mean to throw it at her.

I was cleaning the table when I realized I needed some bleach to get this hunk of dried mystery food off the table. The cap wouldn't come off at first so I pulled it a little harder and it flew over my shoulder...

Apparently it hit her.

I didn't even know people were allowed in here after closing.

I kinda feel bad though, didn't mean to upset anyone. But it's all I ever seem to do.

I walked over to my cubby and grabbed my stuff.

Guess I gotta go home now.

After writing an apology to Mrs. Jackson, I changed into my good clothes and headed out the front entrance.

As soon as I left the building, I saw the lady from earlier walking with another woman towards an enormous building.

I guess that's where she lives. Maybe I should apologize?

At first I was going to try and apologize, but I stopped myself.

I turned to walk behind the caf building to head towards my dorm.

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"Aye yo, wassup my nig", my roomate DeVonte called to me when I stepped in our room, "Why you back so early?"

I looked at my clothes in my hand and noticed they were lightening up, so i took out my phone and typed, "this chick spilled bleach on me", so that a male voice produced the words that I could not... would not.

"And why the fvck would some b!tch do that?", Te looked up from his phone.

I typed, "See what had happened was... I accidentally threw the cap at her", I listened to the male robotic voice sputter from my phone.

Yea, this is how I function day-to-day.

"Well, fam, yo a$$ gotta be more careful then. You keepin them or they trash?"

"I'm definitely keeping them. They the only bad clothes I got, and I need work clothes", I set my phone down as it finished speaking what I typed so I could find some grub.

I checked the tub of food we had: Poptarts , bread, chips... to the mini-fridge: wait a fvcking minute...

I hurried over to my phone, "Where is my m0therfvcking Popeyes??"

DeVonte looked up and slowly began to rise, "My nig, see, man, what had happen was--"

He took off into his room, and seconds later, I heard a lock turn.

Punk a$$. If you gon take my food, suffer the fvcking consequences.

I grabbed a sheet of paper and a pen and wrote a very calm, very chill note to my bud, and slid it under his door.

Then, more pissed than ever, I retraced my steps to the mini fridge and mourned the loss of my mac n' cheese, fries, and spicy chicken.

Damn. What am I gonna eat? I'm too tired to cook.