Bey
It was nearing the end of Thanksgiving break for me and my sister and Nicki still haven't gotten the chance to meet in person.
It's not like I don't want them to it's just hard keeping anything from Tina Knowles.
It was a random ass Wednesday afternoon and my mother happened to be off from work today, so Nicki and Sol obviously couldn't meet today.
"Beyoncé!" my mother called for me, snapping me out of my thoughts.
Speaking of the devil.
"Yes?!" I responded on my way down to greet her in the living room.
"Come here and help me put these groceries up."
"Okay," I said heading outside to get the groceries from the back porch.
As I was nearing the car I noticed a pipe looking thing in the back seat. I opened the door to fully inspect what I had been seeing. The small cylinder was too familiar looking to go unrecognized. It was the same thing that had killed my favorite aunt, Tyra.
My whole body felt heavy, my face sank and tears nearly escaped my eyes. Every time I felt the tears coming I remember my mother telling me that crying was for the weak.
"Beyoncé what the Hell is taking you so long?" My mother said as she marched down the steps to the porch and grabbed my stagnant body from the backseat.
She took a glance at my hand and then sighed.
"Mama," I said as I held tears back.
"What did I tell you about going through my stuff Beyoncé?"
"You said that you would never," I spat as tears began to fall down my face uncontrollably.
"It's none of your damn business Beyoncé! Put my shit back where you found it!"
"No! Mama you said that you would never! You see what it did to auntie! I don't need that happening to you!"
"What is all of this yelling?" Solange came outside running and standing next to my mother with her hand on her hip and her robe on.
"Nothing," mama responded.
It didn't take a genius to know what all of the hollering was about. There was a crack pipe in my hand. A rusty, old, damn near worn out crack pipe in my hand and I was the only one fucking mad about it.
"Damn it she found out," Solange cursed at herself.
"You knew?" I questioned.
She didn't respond.
"So I'm the only one who cares about my mother's health and well being? Mama, what is the point of this?"
"Don't question me more than you have Beyoncé. Put my shit back and get the Hell out of my face. I don't know who raised you with that mouth and attitude but it sure as Hell wasn't me."
"I raised me!" I yelled as I threw the pipe back into the backseat.
"Bey just go to your room to calm down, alright?!" Solange spoke with animosity towards me.
I didn't say a word, but I didn't need to. My inappropriate teenage jargon was written in the expression of my face and the diction of my body language. I was disgusted, more than I had ever been before. Tears halted at my jaw as I disregarded the groceries and went to my room to find a calm place.
I walked a great distance from my mother and sister. I marched up the back porch, into the house, and continued my journey to my room. At this point I was sobbing uncontrollably, remembering the day I got the phone call that my aunt was dead from overdose. The drugs that my cousin sold to her.
