Same Night...
Saturday, July 4th
Kam's POV
I heard the fireworks going, and instantly knew Paris was about to have a PTSD attack.
Usually, we come out earlier so that it won't be too many loud fireworks going off, but this year we had a late start.
I looked to my left and saw Paris' eyes widen as she started to hold her chest. She started crying and breathing heavily.
Everybody rushed over to her.
"PARIS!" Aaron yelled, running over towards her.
"I TOLD YOU SHE SHOULD'VE STAYED IN THE HOUSE!" I yelled, to nobody specifically, running to her to pick her up off the sidewalk.
"Let's go y'all!" My dad directed us back to the house.
I panted heavily as I panicked trying to hold Paris in my arms at the same time.
"I'm sorry that you gotta go through this my baby." I said, letting a year escape my eye.
As we got to the house I rushed through the front door.
"MOVE!" I yelled to some of my family who was on the couch.
I laid her on the couch and shook her a lil bit.
My dad nudged me out the way. "Get me a water bottle."
I gave him the water bottle and he opened it and poured it on my sister's face.
Soon as I looked up, she sat up and started crying.
"Come on." My dad said as he took her arms, helping her walk to her room.
Me and Aaron followed behind them, opening the door for them.
"You're okay, you're okay, you're okay." My dad said as he rocked back and forth with Paris in his arms on her bed.
She held onto him tightly.
"You want something to drink?" Aaron asked her.
She nodded her head yes, and he got her a bottle of water.
"You want me to tell everybody to go home?" I asked my pops.
"Yeah." He said, still looking down at Paris.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
Paris' POV
I stayed up all night, not able to sleep.
I though I would be able to handle the fireworks, but I guess not...
Honestly, I thought my PTSD had gotten a lot better, if not gone away.
It was times like this where I wish I could talk to my mom and give her a big hug...
I wanted to be with Raelyn, but she left. I wanted to talk to Alexys, but he broke his phone, I didn't feel like hearing Kyla's ghetto ass, but most of all...I wanted to talk to Jamar. But I got way too much pride for that.
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Next Day
Sunday, July 5th
YOU ARE READING
To Live and Die In L.A. (FINISHED) Pt. 1
Teen FictionSeventeen year old Paris Brooks, born and raised in South Central L.A., is struggling to get over the murder of her mom which she witnessed when she was only six years old. She's not happy like she used to be and goes through many obstacles because...
