Sarah Marshall.
A 21 year old, single mother. Five years ago, at the age of 16, she was brutally beaten and raped by her ex Raymond Brown. He impregnated her and left her to die.
Nine months later after the incident, she birthed a beautiful baby boy...
Today was the day I was so nervous about. Thankfully August agreed to come with me to New Orleans. We landed about four hours ago and I was about to have a panic attack.
"If you'on wanna do this, don't go." August said calming me down.
I nodded, drinking more water. "I want to though I'm just scared, you know. I haven't seen these people since and I just want some type of closure. A sorry or something."
"You takin lil man in?" He asked and I quickly shook my head.
"Never. They hate him. I wouldn't dare put him in that position or around their energy."
He nodded, tapping on the steering wheel. "We got taday and tamorrow. Which one?"
"Today. Tomorrow I just want to chill with you and Christian." I said sighing.
"Ight. If you need me, you betta call. I'a run ma' ass in thea' fa you." He said staring at me.
From the look he was giving me I knew he was serious. " Okay."
"Gimme a kiss befo you take yo ass in thea."
I smiled, leaning over to give him a soft peck. "I love you, August."
"I love you too, na, gone talk ta yo parents." He said scratching his head.
I nodded, saying a quick prayer before stepping out of the car. Walking up the five steps I could feel my whole body shake with nervousness and discomfort.
I knock on the door, waiting for and answer.
"Who is it?" Someone asked.
I didn't sound like my mother, so I shrugged knocking again. The door opened and a boy answered looking exactly like my dad.
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"Who you?" He asked.
"I-I'm Sarah. I'm looking for Kevin and Sierra Marshall."
"Aight. You wanna come in?" He asked and my breathing stops.
I nod, biting my lip. I could feel my nervousness taking over my whole body. Who was this man? He looked to be the same age as me or around. Not to mention he look like an exact replica of Kevin.
He opened the door wider for me and I immediately look around my childhood home wanting to die because of the memories. The wall no longer held pictures of me as a child, but with photos of the boy.
