Insecure (Completed)

34

A/N: Thanks for the feedback loves. A lil glimpse inside the mind of Mari.

Amari

I wasn't ready to be a single mother. Naively, I had once thought that being pregnant by Malik was my saving grace. I thought it would keep me alive. And I desperately wanted to stay alive.

I knew Yazmine was probably wondering why I was so adamant that Malik was the father. I knew he was. Not only did I feel it, in my soul, he was the only man I'd ever fucked raw.

When I discovered I was pregnant, in the hospital, I wasn't shocked. My dumb ass tried to reach out to Malik the safest way I knew of.

His mother.

But now, I didn't want anything to do with Malik, nor his mom.

I couldn't do this shit. I was scared. Scared to have a baby on my own. My parents would fucking disown me if I had a baby at eighteen.

When Yazmine told me Malik was dead, reality came crashing in. There would be no more Malik, period. No more hiding from him, but also no chance to see the look on his face when he was told he would be a father.

Long after Yazmine left, I rubbed my stomach. I had gotten myself in entirely too much shit in the four months since school started. I was a mess and no one deserved to have a mess as a mother.

Growing up, I wasn't religious or anything, so I felt like I could do this. I could get rid of this baby, and focus on school and not niggas and I could pass my classes and make my parents notice me. Amari Love Williams. How ironic was it that my parents gave me that name, then didn't give me any love.

Growing up, it was always, "Amari, why can't you be more like Yaz?" Every report card was a disappointment to them. They wanted me to run track, but I wasn't any good so I quit. It got to a point where I figured they would rather be her parent than mine. They loved Yazmine.

They had time for her. They never had time for me, my father was always out of town for "business" but my mother and I both knew it was pleasure. My mother was always blowing my father's money, with beauty treatments, and surgeries designed to reel him back in.

I finally was like fuck it. I stopped aching for their attention and accepted it from the ones who gave it to me: niggas. I turned into a stereotype: searching for daddy's love in other men. Except it wasn't even love I wanted, I wanted to feel wanted.

It made me feel good to see how much nigga's desired me. But I fucked up. I had a lot of sex in my life. Since I lost my virginity when I was twelve, yeah I had a lot of sex. All of it protected. Except one night, not too long after I met Malik.

I met him at a club, and we clicked and after that I used to see him damn near every day. This was after Yaz and I got into our fight and I kicked her out and shit. I was super tore up about our fight. I was a mess, feeling like the shitty person I was for putting her out like that. She ain't deserve that. And I was gonna apologize and beg her to come back, but her and Devonte started getting really close, and Trey wasn't speaking to me and everything was fucked up.

But Malik, he always made me forget. Anyways, Malik and I went from just messing around to him claiming me as his girl. And we fucked raw once. Then everything went wrong quick.

Malik thought I was fucking around on him, and I was and I wasn't at the same time. The first time he accused me of messing around, I wasn't. He just was hella jealous and possessive and jumped to conclusions. He hit me then, and I left him. But I ain't stay away. The next time he accused me, he was partly right. It was just a lil head from time to time. I never expected to get caught.

There was a knock on the door and I scrunched up my face, wondering who it was. No one came to see me except Yaz, and she had already come.

I took my sweet time getting out of the couch and the person knocked again, hard. Irritated, I yanked open the door. There was a tall as fuck nigga standing in front of me. Like, not just tall, but muscular. He had light brown skin and cold, dark brown eyes. Tats littered his huge arms. He was wearing a shirt with cut off sleeves, like it wasn't cold as fuck. He was low key scary looking. I was starting to wish I ain't open the door.

"Yes?" My tone was questioning.

"You Amari?"

"Yes...and you are?"

"Andre. But that shit irrelevant. I hear you tryna abort Malik baby."

"How did you...who are you?" I yanked the door open wider, and he stepped inside, closing the door behind him. I started to regret that as soon as I took in his size again.

"Like I said irrelevant. Why the fuck would you go around telling niggas you tryna abort a baby? Like damn, Malik dead. Problem solved, but nah you like putting yo ass in danger."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Are you stupid or sum? You think Malik momma gonna just let you abort her grand baby? Assuming it even is her grand baby, but shit."

"How would she stop me? This is my decision." I crossed my arms.

"It was yo decision until you started running yo mouth. Now, I don't know you so I don't give a fuck about you or yo safety but apparently my brother do. Malik momma is crazy, almost crazy as he was, may he rot in hell. She just lost her son and she willing to do anything to not lose another family member. She wants that baby Amari."

I wasn't following. I had met Malik's mother before and she seemed fine, a little scatterbrained but fine. "Wants the baby?" This shit was sounding ridiculous.

"Yeah. She don't give a fuck about what you want. If you plan on getting an abortion or some shit, you better get the fuck out of Indiana because if you kill that baby, she probably gonna kill you." Andre yanked open the door and walked out. I watched him. It looked like winter had finally decided to start. Small snowflakes summersaulted onto the ground.

I gently shut the door behind him. My thoughts raced wildly. I didn't know what to do. Could I really believe a nigga that just showed up out of nowhere, could I believe that Malik's mother would kill me?

I could act like he never showed up, ignore his warning, and schedule my appointment for my procedure. But what if he was telling the truth?

Would I be willing to risk it? Take that chance?
But what were my other options...my head spun. I couldn't have this baby, I just couldn't.

God, why was I so stupid. How the fuck did I get myself in this predicament? No wonder my parents wanted me to be more like Yaz. No wonder they didn't love me, I was so fucking stupid.

I thought long and hard about my two choices. And each one seemed like the wrong decision to make.