Regrets||✓✓

18. 1.

I knew this situation all too well. I'd relived it several times in my childhood. And now, it was happening to my younger sister, Liberty. My mum was yelling at her for dying her curly black hair blue and wearing too much make up. Liberty was yelling back at her, saying she didn't care. She was only thirteen. And mom was scared. If I hadn't found the light when I had, I'm pretty sure she'd lost two daughters already.

I stepped in between the both of them and yanked them apart. "I'll talk to her, ma. You can go." My mom nodded, hissed at my sister and left. Then I faced her.

Liberty was, like i had said before, thirteen. She had rushed into the rebellious phase faster than the pimples on her face started appearing. She was tall, had a build of a size eight model. She was very sexy, to be honest. It's not the word I should use to describe a thirteen years old but damn, puberty did her good. She had all sorts of colours in her hair, thick mascara and eyeliner, and the brightest shade of red lipstick on her face. She puckered her lips and folded her hands across her chest, her eyes daring me to say something.

I didn't.

Instead I pulled her into a hug and kissed her ear softly. She loosened up. "I'm sorry, Naija," she said and looked at me as I pulled away, "but this is my turn. Don't you even try to sweet talk me into shit."

I wasn't going to.

"Have fun ruining your life," I told her icily, and left her alone in the living room.

I heard her cussing behind me, and I would be lying if I said I didn't care. What kind of sister wouldn't care if her sister was on the path of destruction. I sat on the bench outside and looked around. We stayed in a black neighborhood, the typical red wood houses and not enough space. Everyone knew everyone here.

That's one thing I like about this neighborhood. When shit goes down everyone knows. It makes you smart enough not to do dumb shit or everyone's eyes will be on you, silently judging., watching, expecting you to do the same shit over again so they can begin the process all over.

A few teens were outside, reclining on the richest kid's car and smoking weed. A mom was braiding her daughter's hair on the front porch. An old man was rocking himself to sleep in front of his unkempt house. Typical black neighborhood.

I shut my eyes and tried to think. What would I have done in Liberty's shoes? My thirteen years old self flashed before my eyes. Lord knows it was worse. I didn't want Liberty to destroy herself. She was still too young. The best thing to do was wait for a comfortable moment alone with her and help her see that the way she was going wasn't going to help her in future.

I felt the bench creak beside me and opened my eyes. It was my cousin Tremaine. They live right beside us so we are very close. He is freakishly tall and he plays varsity basketball. He's the most Christian-like in the family, and I love him for being such a good role model to his younger ones, including me.

"What did Liberty do this time?"

"She cussed at Ma. Called her a bitch."

"And your Ma retaliated by...?"

"Calling her a child of the Devil."

"And?"

"She said the Devil would make a better mother than Ma ever would. And then they started yelling at each other."

"Jesus Christ!" Tremaine nearly jumped off the bench. "She said that?"

"Mm-hmm," I nodded, and looked straight ahead. Mum would have been broken hearted when Liberty had said that. Even I felt that in my chest. It hurt. "I don't know how to talk to her."

"Do you want me to?" Tremaine offered. I looked at him and nodded. "Alright. Maybe tomorrow, before I head back, okay?" He patted my knee and went inside my house to greet my Dad and Mom, leaving me alone outside with my thoughts, and my memories.

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Love,
AJ.