Journey Toward Me (Not Yet Edited)

Chapter 22: Unspoken Conversations

Amara's POV

####10:05P.M.####

I sat in the base-room reading a book while waiting on Camille to arrive. Amani sat in the corner in a slum tossing a basketball in the air and catching it periodically checking his phone for a text from Essence. I tossed the book down in frustration.

Amani looked at me like I was a lunatic. "The fuck is your beef?"

"I'm bored man!" I yelled and stood. I wasn't sure if Camille was ever gonna show. She said she was on her way a long time ago. Maybe something came up. And I knew Essence wasn't coming due to Amani's fuck up. I sighed.

"Well start a blog or something. I'm not in the mood." He replied looking away.

I rolled my eyes and ran upstairs getting a thought. I felt like doing some investigations. Ever since I found all those pictures in the attic I was curious about my family lineage. Who was that man in the picture with my dad? While I sat on suspention earlier, I did a little digging and found some things I wanted to show Amani. Maybe that'd get his mind off of this black soap opera he'd co-written and starred in.

"Yo!" I yelled coming back downstairs with two big boxes stacked on top of each other filled with bunches of trinkets.

"What?" He asked not making an effort to peel his eyes away from The Real Housewives of Atlanta.

Now I knew he was trippin'. All Amani watched on TV was Sports Center and ESPN. Now he was really into Housewives like he was a devoted weekly watcher. "What in the... mm-mm." I put the boxes on the floor and walked over to the TV turning it off.

"Aye why you do that? Phaedra and Kenya was about to go toe to toe." He said throwing a right hook in the air.

I just shook my head and grabbed his hand forcing him to stand. "Yo this is kidnapping." He grumbling sitting next to me on the floor.

"Shut up and help me go through this stuff." I demanded pulling out several photos. "You can't mope about Essence forever. Get a grip dawg."

"I can't stand yo ass sometimes." He cursed under his breath picking up some pics.

"Hey look. It's us when we were three." Amani showed me a pic of us in the tub. His hands were on my cheeks and mine were on his. We were both smiling. Twin love.

"Awwww I was such a better looking baby than you!" I said covering his face only revealing mine.

"Yous a hater. Look at those dimples mayne that's boss." I rolled my eyes.

"Aaaanyway. I was looking through this earlier and I found these diaries." I said uncovering a dusty white journal with pink and brown flowers all over it and three others that looked similar.

"Whose is it?" He asked trying to take the journal out of my hands.

I snatched it back. "I don't know. I was waiting to go through it with you."

"Well whatchu waiting on?"

I rolled my eyes again and slowly opened the journal revealing neat cursive handwriting on pages that were yellowed with age. I flipped through the pages and noticed the entire book was filled. We had a long night ahead of us.

June 22nd 1993

Today I entered the land of a teenage boy. I've been so worried about Marc lately. He's always been an independent young man but sometimes he doesn't come home until really late. He doesn't speak to me or Charles and I'm not sure what to do. That's why I had to go in his room. Maybe he'd have something there to help me understand. I just wanted the best for him. I was expecting it to be a mess. Clothes everywhere. Shoes scattered along the floor. But it was the complete opposite. The room was spotless and I found myself feeling guilty for invading my son's privacy. His room showed no signs of his role in the streets but I knew there was something up with him. Drugs? Gangs? Girls? Maybe if I wouldn't have done what I did all those years ago Marc wouldn't be the way he is now. I prayed and prayed and begged for forgiveness. It was a mistake. But Marc is here now and he's suffering because of me. I see how differently Charles treats Martin and Marc and I don't say a thing. They're brothers. I'm wrong. I'm so sorry.