I layed in my bed with my black dress on and stared at the ceiling. Blank. Just like my mind. Today was the day I feared. The funeral. The day I have to put my Mama and my big brother in the ground. I've been up all night thinking about it. I haven't had one blink of sleep.
Everytime I close my eyes I see memories of us. Memories of when we were together. Memories of Santo and I seeing my Mama for the first time. Memories of Chris, Santo, and I's first argument. I wish I had it all back. I wish I had every fight, every hug, every kiss, every laugh back. But I won't. The only thing I have is memories.
"It's time, Bo." Mijo said, opening my door.
"I don't want to go." I say, barely over a whisper.
Mijo sighed and sat on the side of my bed.
"I know you don't want to go, but you got to." He says.
I don't say anything. I just lay there and don't say a word. I don't want to hear that I have to. I don't want to hear anyone, but Chris's or Santo's voice telling me to get ready for school or to come down to breakfast. I don't want to sit through a service with people who I don't even know talk about my Mama and Santo. I don't want to.
"C'mon Chilombo. Your Mama and brother would want you to. Chris would want you to." Mijo says.
"No, they would want me to do what's right." I argue.
"And doing what you're supposed to do ain't right? I know you how you feelin', BoBo. I felt the same way when I had to put my Mama in the ground. But that was the right thing to do. You have to do the right thing to do. So you gon' do it." Mijo snapped.
I just sighed and got up. I hate the fact how Mijo is right all the damn time. I swear.
I went to my closet and got my shoes and my phone started buzzing. I picked it up and smiled. My wallpaper was a collage I put together of Mama, Santo, Chris, and me. Mama put our nicknames in each box. Chris and Santo had it as their wallpapers too. That day was awesome.
We just got back from seeing Outkast at Coachella and we had to get dressed up for the BET Awards that Chris took us to and I wanted to take individual pictures of us, even though I was watching "The Incredibles" and I was the only one still undressed and Santo caught me off guard, but it still looked good. That was the best night of my life.
I slid my phone open and a stale expression grew on my face. August. I clicked ignore and continued to put my shoes on. I don't have time for ignorance. Not today.
"Who was calling you?" Mijo asked, sprawled out on my bed.
"No one important. You not going to the funeral?" I ask, looking Mijo up and down.
He was dressed in a regular black shirt and some jeans. Something that he would wear any other day.
"I am, but I can only stay for a few minutes. I got some buisness to take care of." He says, not looking up from his phone.
I nodded and continued to put my shoes on. I know that Mijo sells dope, but I'm not to talk about it or ask questions. He always made that clear to me.
*
"And now, sister Sheryl will lead us off in a song."
I sighed and stood up. This entire funeral I've been sick to my stomach. All the pastor did was say how this was a tragic loss, and how they will be missed and shit.
There is tons of people here that I've never seen before except Santo's friends, Jacob and Rayan, and I don't even fuck with them like that.
A whole bunch of old people are coming up to me and telling me how great my Mama was and stories of how they first met, like I actually gave a fuck.
I swear this funeral sucked ass. If it were up to Santo and Mama, this funeral wouldn't be sad. Tupac would be blasting and everybody would be having a good time and good vibes would be all around. But no, niggas think they know my family better than I do.
Half these people here are probably here just trying to get free food to be honest. All the old ladies and shit are crying like they really felt pain, when they didn't. Not like I did at least. No one did.
The service was over and all I wanted to do was go home. I decided to skip the food. My stomach hurt so bad, I couldn't eat. I bet if Mama was here, she would've been smashing food.
"Put some of them chicken wings on your plate for me." She would say. " I don't wanna look that greedy."
I smiled just thinking about that crazy lady. She would have me pretend to be her friend when she saw cute guys, but it didn't really work, because they thought Santo was her boyfriend. Santo's voice would get all deep and he would roll up his sleeves, so they would see his muscles and he would grab Mama's ass and she would slap the shit out of him afterwards.
Or how Mama would kiss all over Chris everytime a fan of his would come up to him and try to get a picture, and he would be like "Aight, Ma, damn! You embarrassin' me!". It was the funniest shit ever.
Man, those were the good 'ol days. Where every moment was never dull when I was with them. When I didn't have worry in the world. We were all good. But nothing gold can stay. And that's the truth. My family was my gold, and now, I'm broke. Totally broke.
