Remy & Cam: No Love Lost

No longer In The Streets

I finally made it home to the single-family house I owned on the North end of Bridgeport. For my first home, it was beautiful; hardwood floor, crown molding, high ceilings. Great cabinet space, and stainless steel appliances. The master bedroom had a connecting bathroom with a luxury shower, and the bedrooms has more than enough space, with two walk-in closets in each room. I turned the basement into a dance studio with a pole to practice, as well as an entertainment area with a fully loaded bar; there was a laundry room and another full bath and bedroom. I had a spacious backyard equipped with a deck, and planned to put a swimming pool out there, next summer.

I touched my beautiful face as I made my way inside. I had a permanent scar on my cheek. All thanks to my father, I have a titanium plate holding my jaw together. I remember that shit like it was yesterday; my dreams won't allow me to forget. I dream about that man every day; I just can't shake him off. To make myself forget, I smoke a lot of weed and I may drink a little more than the average chic my age, but that's my business. The little bit of friends I keep don't judge me. All I could do is live; my way of living is stripping, u ntil I reach my goals financially and pave the way to a better life. 

I plan to come up big one day and live like a boss; nah, like a queen ruling her throne. That's what I considered myself to be, a fucking queen, so why not start living like one now. I might have to do some things I don't like to get there, but damn it, watch me work. Right now, I'm not satisfied with my life. I needed to get over my parents and get my life in order. I ended my night with a hot shower then snuggled up in my bed and fell asleep with more than enough shit on my mind.

I still held a lot of anger towards my parents so from time to time, I went to see a counselor about these dreams I've been having. My counselor, Mary Nieves, told me I should go visit my parents and tell them how I feel about everything they've done to me. When she first told me that shit, I looked at her like, bitch please, you done lost ya' mind. At times, I felt it was a good idea. Maybe they've changed after so long. Shit, I would hope they did if I was going over there. I'm not that same little girl they used to beat the shit out of when I was fifteen.

Going to see my parents was something that I would put some thought into, but right now I needed to figure out my next move. We were towards the middle of spring and it was brick outside. Something had to give with this weather; fucking global warming is a muthafucker. My 17th birthday is in a couple weeks and I had some major shopping to do. I planned on taking my ass to the city and hit up Saks Fifth Avenue, one of my favorite stores, besides Versace and Prada. Don't get me wrong, I shop at H&M and rock sneakers from Finish Line all day, but I do enjoy great fashion too.

I'm not the type of chick that worries about a price tag, cheap or expensive; if it looks good on me then it's mine. A real Queen knows how to work any outfit and make a muthafucker's head turn. Not being conceited, but I am that bitch. I plan to get up with my home fgirls this weekend. As of now, I have things to do. I needed to talk to my boss about my last day at Scruples. It's time for me to move on from that place. I can't move up in the world by stripping all night and day. That's what I felt--my ass wasn't getting nowhere--but anything is subject to change.

I want to get my G.E.D and then go back to school. I want to get a degree or certificate in something. Anything would do right now. I didn't want to take my clothes off for men all my life. That was never a part of my life's plan when I was younger. I always wanted to be a doctor or a criminal justice attorney. I want to make a difference in my community, find a way to give back. Have a family of my own, get married someday. But my parents, mainly my father, fucked that up for me.

Now I was a stripper in some hole in the wall strip club. It was fine for now, because I was draining pockets while these sad bitches in here were watching from the sidelines, getting pissed and hating. Still in all, this wasn't the life I wanted to live. I needed to leave this shit alone and focus on having a real life and future. Stripping was bringing in good money, but this wasn't something I could put on my resume. I couldn't use any of these broads in the building as a reference.