If The Walls Could Talk

Hidden Agenda

You never really know how far someone is willing to go for you until someone else comes along.
I was raised during times filled with heartache, pain, sometimes love and often times lust.
I grew up right down the street from a playground and you could hear the kids fill the street with laughter.
They would play from sunrise to sunset and it seem like home was only a jailhouse.
There was not much to do in my town, just the usual go to school, party, hang out or go to the movies or a bar.

My name is Taja Holmes and I am not an ordinary statistic.
Growing up in a poor community was not going to stop me from going to school, graduating, finding the man of my dreams, or living a happy life.
Most people around here dropout of high school before reaching their senior year but not me, I made it.
I am far from any ordinary statistic, well not far, but here's how that story goes.
I was raised in the church, me and my brother Marcus.
It seem like every Sunday my grandmother and grandfather would wake us from our sleep with a full breakfast: pancakes, eggs, bacon, juice, the whole nine yards.
My grandfather would be in a suit, and my grandmother fixing her Sunday's hat.
My brother was always excited and I was too, for a short time. But after awhile it just seemed like so much.
My grandfather (Rev) was a preacher and it was either his way or no way. I remember being in everything: the choir, the praise dance team, I was a junior usher, and I was in every program from Black History to the birth of Jesus.
Sister Anderson, who is actually my Aunt Ant would always be leading the Sunday school lesson, and I'll have to stand up and read, as if school wasn't tomorrow.
The best thing about going to church is after being there for 2 hours, we would have Sunday dinner at our house. We would play games, watch sports, talk about family trips, and just enjoy each other's company.

My grandmother was kind hearted but strict, if you know what I mean. Her and Aunt Ant would sit on our porch and talk for hours and if anything happend around our town her and Aunt Ant knew about it. They were close, almost as close as the sand on the beach. We stayed less than 100 feet away from each other and Aunt Ant and her daughter and son were always around. But no matter how close someone is they will always find a way to lower your character. Well guess what? I am pissed the fuck off. I keep replaying thoughts of when I was just a little girl, playing with my cousins in our yard and running through the sprinklers. I sit and wonder am I the only one reminiscing of the good times. As we would play, Rev would be working in the yard as usual, and it seem like since he retired from being the post man he just had to find something to keep him occupied. Oh yeah, before Marcus moved with us he stayed with our dad and stepmom and her nephew: Essence, Aja, and Aaron. I always thought that I would one day be just like them: married, happily in love, and financially stabled. Like who doesn't want that? It didn't quite workout with my mom, Tiana. My dad use to say she would always try to ruin his name. Truth be told, our name is nothing special from any other family.

Marcus and I went through a custody battle between our parents that started when I was in junior high. Every other month it seemed like we would appear in court waiting to hear who we would stay with next. Whether it be my mom or dad, we never knew. Truth be told neither one of them was ever around. My mom left my dad and met my stepdad,Darian, and my dad would be so busy working that we would barely see him. When I finally reached a certain age, I was asked in court by an attorney "Who would you rather stay with?" As I sat with my eyes wide opened and mouth dropped into my lap, I searched the room. I saw my mom family sitting and awaiting my answer. A few days before the hearing they called and confessed how much they loved us and how they missed us and how much our mom misses us. They even talked about how my dad would always be this drunk and possessive guy and even told us a few stories about how he would get so drunk and beat on her and burn her with cigarettes. I never seen him hit my mom, well I was young but I never seen it happen. My dad family was different though. They made sure we were taking care of. I am not saying my mom did not take care of us but with my dad family we were always put first. My mom seemed to had thought that money consumed our brains when in actuality attention was the key.

Our mom was in lust. I say in lust because she would be more concerned about keeping a man than she was about keeping her children. When we weighed our option I told the judge we chose our dad. Even then, we spent 6 months with our dad and the other 6 months with our mom. Just like any other family we have our ups and downs, secrets, betrayals, love, and deaths. I thought family was suppose to be about fighting for each other not fighting each other. I guess we all have our demons and skeletons in the closet. It was near the beginning of my high school years when I begun to experience the growth attributes of growing into a woman. But, being the granddaughter of a pastor made life a living hell. If walls could talk, they would tell the many nights I sat and cried in my room. They would tell the fights, the soft skin of Victoria Secret, and the hits to its side. What hurt the most was reality and knowing that I had to deal with life everyday unhappy, worrying, arguing, standing up for myself because nobody was going to look out for me. I was fed up, so I did it. I became a woman at an early age. I turned my back on doing what I was told and started doing what I felt. It was my senior year of high school and we had just returned from Winter break. Nobody knows the pain I'm in or the things I've done but here I am letting go of all of my secrets. I didn't do it out of spite of my family but because it was my time to live