The Assassin's Leman

Far From Cliché

Trinidad and Tobago

My mother raised Beyoncé as if she were her blood. The island native woman served as the nanny of the Knowles' children up until Beyoncé and I had gotten pregnant. Being only three years ahead of me, Giselle and I spent a lot of time growing up together, playing with one another, and loving each other.

My mother came from nothing, my father was there, but then again he was absent. What good is a lazy drunk in a needy household? So, my mother hustled, and I thought she'd hit the jackpot working for the prestigious royal family.

There was a lot I noticed while growing up with rich folk.

After you obtain so much money, the war is no longer about the melanin thriving day to day in your skin, but it's about the lineage and how many billions you leave behind.

The rich get richer, and the poor suffer.

The only thing I could do was enjoy life as it came. I never craved to be the Queen. I never craved to have the rarest gems decorating my skin, skin that the rich folk would kill for.

Still, day by day, I grew with thoughts of a normal life on my mind, that was until things changed in the weirdest ways.

Along with the heir to the throne, I attended private school with the money moma had earned continuously. While I finished high school, Beyoncé was taken out to serve time in the military. Her keen eye earned her a spot as one of the country's best snipers.

She left me for two years, my best friend was what she had become. I didn't know I was in love until she returned for the holidays. Mama was still working for the Knowles, Her Majesty had given birth to the third and last child of the bunch, Bynce.

Beyoncé surprised me that year, coming onto my college campus with a dozen of Magnolias and raging hormones of love, lust, and yearning. We made love for the first time in my dorm, she reigned as my first everything, nothing's changed.

I remember when Nas and Lauryn's "If I Ruled The World" dropped. Giselle and I would take turns rapping and singing along, and while I was enjoying the beat to the bop, Beyoncé had hope within those hazel eyes. She had dreams that war far too dangerous to be brought past her medulla. We talked everyday and night about what she would do when she took over, and I begged her to keep me in private. Misery was bound to come upon anyone taking a seat on that royal material, I valued my civilian life too much.

Years later, I went on to receive my first degree, and learned that two growing blessings were inside of me. While I was elated with joy, I also knew that what we had was the furthest thing from what was expected.

How would the world react after finding out that Beyoncé was not only homosexual, but had mated with a poor?

But, what made me love her more was her standstill. Not ever did she leave my side, her protection for me grew along with the way she admired and cared for me. Love was the seal of our bond that I didn't know was bound to still be present now.

"Nika," my father called out, knocking on my cracked door.

With a plate of food and a nice cold water bottle in his hand, he came baring love and forgiveness that I had no choice but to accept. "Thank you, papa."