"Mom, I want a gun".
My mother stopped rubbing the quarter against the scratch off she had in her hand and looked up at me.
"You want a what?"
"A gun".
"For what?"
"For protection".
"Protection from what?"
"Why do I have to go through an interview for you to just give me one?"
"Because you're my daughter and I'm going to ask questions".
I rolled my eyes and sat across from her on the couch.
"Mom, all this shit happening around here, I need some form of protection. I don't want to be defenseless out here".
"Why would you be defenseless in the streets if you're not in them?"
I opened my mouth to make up another lie but couldn't come up with one. I didn't want to tell her I wanted a gun just in case Earole or anyone else decided to hem me up. I want to be able to handle business on my own now. Everyone around me has a name to where people know not to mess with them. But lately, it seems that the name of my parents isn't bothering people as much as I thought it would. It isn't enough. It's time I make my own path.
My mother sighed and motioned for me to follow her. I walked behind her into her room and she shut the door behind her. She went to the window and closed the blinds then reached up under her bed and pulled out a case. She put the code on it and I heard it click open. She opened it and revealed to me way more than I needed to see.
"Mom, are you still selling drugs?"
"Not this heavy stuff, Stinkie".
"So, why do you have it?"
"For you".
"Why for me?"
"Just in case something bad happens and you need some money".
"Where's the money that you took from Poppa?"
She hesitated. "In a safe place".
"You aren't going to tell me?"
"It's best that I don't".
"Why?"
"You are asking a lot of questions right now".
She picked up a Glock 10, put the magazine in and handed it to me. She closed the case and put it back under the bed. My hands shook a little as I looked at the weapon in my hand.
"If you're going to be carrying that around, you need to know how to handle it. Come with me".
"Where are we going?"
She looked as if she didn't like what she was about to say. "To my trap house".
***********************
"Again!", my mother yelled.
She shot one in the air, giving me my signal. I quickly put the loose bullets in the magazine and put it in the chamber. I cocked the gun back then emptied the clip into the target at the other end of the room. I let out the breath I was holding then looked at her.
"Again!"
"Mom, we've been at this all damn day! I'm pretty sure I got it now".
"You think shooting at a target is having it? This is nothing".
YOU ARE READING
The Preachers Daughter
Literatura Feminina*PLEASE COMMENT AND VOTE* Zoyanna Tubbman was raised in happy home, protected in her father's shadow. He went into the ministry profession to guarantee that security. Zoyanna is far from an angel though. Tired of the same old routine, she goes to f...
