A Black Kpop Idol

Chapter 4

[It is still the same day, Feb 22nd, 2012]

My grandma filled out the necessary papers to discharge me from the hospital. As she did that, Page and Bozé played with the hospital toys, provided for the waited families with children. Janet sat on a seat next to them with her legs pulled up enough to lay her head on her knees. She had a long day I thought, combing my hand through my nasty dirty hair. Dirt was gathered inside my fingernails.

Click..click the moveable parts on the toy slide and hit the other pieces. Janet joined them, though unenthusiastically, boring herself in 5 minutes, I laugh with no sound at Janet's dreadful state and on the side of the room, grandma stood up and walked to the front desk.  The kids placed down the toys told my grandma that we were leaving.

We exit the building and wait by the road, that connects from the main road, right in front of the emergency entrance of the right side of the maroon color hospital. I wobble to Grandma, who's staring out into the open with a blank face holding Page with her left hand and Bozé in her right. Her face had more wrinkles than usual, additional lines across her forehead, perhaps this whole incident troubled her more than expected, definitely more than my mother, who didn't show up to see me discharged, and it hurts that she doesn't care about us. I'll ask grandma about it.

"Grandma, where is mom?" I ask more coldly than I'd like, gaining the attention of my sisters and niece, who soon had matching blank faces. I hear my heart thrumming loud in my ears and I felt my heartbreaking. So.... she really didn't visit me in those four months I've been immobile in the hospital room.

 I look to Grandma hoping for reassurance, that my parent of a mom, wasn't a total shitty person who only prefers her own pleasure, over her own children. Please tell me that there is at least a bit of love, in that tiny heart of hers. But that hope soon drowned in itself, when grandma's face was distraught, anger skillfully hidden from us but I saw.

 "I get it...she doesn't care..." digging my nails into the palms of my hands, hard, enough through my soft skin, that blood drips hitting the surface of the dirty gray pavement with old gum decorating the surface. The gum was so black that if the pavement was a face it would be covered with dark moles. Not even the hospital escaped the poorest parts of our neighborhood.

Grandma looks at my bleeding shaking hands, she didn't say nor do anything about it, probably thinking my reaction was justified in itself. "Did you guys visit me from time to time?"

"Every single day, after the girls finished school for the five days of the week" She steadies her voice, she always spoke to us in a calm voice, she never got angry unless you do something downright terrible enough to make her yell at you.

My older sister was always at the fault for her anger, grandma would send us to our rooms so that we won't be horrified, by her booming voice when my sister came home after joining a drive-by, and someone's house was riddled with bullet holes.

She got so angry she called the police on her and she went to Juvenile for a year. To say the least, Page wasn't one bit bothered by her mother going away for a while, in truth she looked quite relieved. Grandma's dark face glances at my face getting emotional just by looking at it,

"Even on the weekends, the kids would stay until visiting hours were over--" she continues, wiping a stray tear that escapes her right eye. "Not....one.. single day did my daughter show up for her child, not even notification of a hospital call to check on your conditions, this made me lose that last dwindling hope, for her to behave as a parent should to their child. So I decided to fight for custody starting today."

I was at a loss for words, I'm relieved, overjoyed, and happy for once in my life. It was freedom from that dreadful house. Janet and Bozé were jumping and cheering with excitement, and Page not fully understanding what that meant copies the other girls. "Woooooo!"

"Page isn't that great? If grandma wins custody over us, we'll live with her instead," Her eyes light up and she runs around in a circle screaming "FOOOOOOD! BEST BIRTHDAY PRESENT EVER!" and Bozé joins her and we laugh at them, for the first time in my life my heart feels warm.

Before they get too crazy, grandma catches and holds them in place. Wow... grandma moves quickly, she could outrun a subway train.

The taxi honked, stopping in front of us, just in time, and we went into the yellow vehicle. The driver, a middle-aged white man, dressed in a stained moldy-green shirt and some sweatpants. There's a gray duffel bag full of whatever is inside, I wouldn't be surprised if it contains some kind of drugs, but I look away when the driver glares at me for being nosy.

Page has to sit on Bozé's lap, and Janet on mine, to make room for grandma to move in. Once directions were told to the driver and the door shut, we were on our way to grandma's house. At least I hope we were I doubt grandma would send us home but if she did, it would be to collect our stuff.

With disappointment, we arrived in front of our house, not hers. But she told us to go get our stuff, and with a quick pace, we bust in the front door, effectively breaking the lock on the door at last. I run into the kitchen, open a cabinet in the tiny space of the cooking area, and grab plastic bags. I run into the kids' room ineffectively throwing them Walmart bags, they end up flying someplace else, and I leave the room, purposely ignoring Janet's bemused face.  

I ran into the room I shared, with my legal older sister. I opened two top drawers out of the four of our dressers, that I claimed. I stuff shirts, stretchy sweat pants, underwear, and socks into them. I reach under my sister's bed taking half of her pads and put them into another bag, alongside some deodorant, perfume, a washrag, and a towel, my toothbrush, some hair products, the majority of my sister's edge control, and a phone charger. I opened the closet and grabbed half of the jackets and coats in there, a big king-size blanket, and all my shoes, and place them into the rest of the bags.

I grab my heavy bags after turning off the lights, I left my childhood room which only causes me to feel pain, anguish, and stress for days. I grew up hearing intercourse noises and moaning, from my mother's room, that keep me from sleeping, and only could drift off until she finished, which wasn't likely. I want to sleep at 10:30 but end up going to sleep at 4:00 am.

 That wasn't the only thing that was terrible, my sister brought over her boyfriend once, who looked like he belonged to the band Kiss, his face was an ashy-dark-gray color and he wore dark goth makeup, a leather jacket with spikes attached without a shirt and tight leather pants. They end up having sex, with the light on, with no covers.

She didn't care if I was watching or not, nor did her boyfriend care. That was the first time I saw a dick and had sex education at the age of 9. I remember my mother applauding her for losing her virginity at a young age, my sister was 14 at the time, what a great parent...

That was when she became pregnant with Page, and in her pregnancy, she would boss us around and would beat us if we didn't become a slave and do what she wants. That continued for four months into her pregnancy, then grandma took her away to her house, until she birthed Page, on February 23rd, 2007. 

I did my best to raise Page, Bozé, Janet, to not be as fucked up as some people in our family. As my older brothers aren't here at home most of the time. They prefer to work overtime as opposed to staying in this house. I don't blame them, if I had the opportunity I would choose somewhere else than here. I helped them with their homework the best I could, I learned how to cook just for them, I changed diapers, potty trained Page and Bozé, used first-aid to treat their scrapes, and tiny wounds. I bathed them and tucked them into bed at night. 

I meet up with Page, Bozé, and Janet at the front door, usher them outside, and close the front door with my foot. I hope I never come back to this house ever again. I hope those bitches rot in hell, that was my last thought while walking back to the taxi with my family and driving down the street to grandma's house.