I'm Jamaica

One: Trending

"Well of all the things you could do today, you just had to post an embarrassing video of me on Instachat." I asked my neighbour's kid, frowning but not very angry. If I was very angry, I wouldn't have been speaking.

"I'm sorry Jama." She whispered, staring at me.

"It's Jamaica." I corrected.

"I'm sorry, Jamaica."

I glared at her, "Get outta here." I said. She scampered away almost tripping on the little stool in the living room.

I waited till I heard the door shut before letting out a frustrated sigh.

My mum came downstairs as I sat on the couch and said in a sigh, "That's why nine year olds shouldn't have phones."

"And that's why you should be called a bully." I heard her say.

"You scared the spirit out of the kid." She added.

"Mum. She literarily posted a video of me choking on popcorn! I only spoke to her." I defended myself as always. I heard my mom open the kitchen blind and listen to something outside.

"Not from the sobs I'm hearing outside from the poor girl." She said as she closed the blind and moved over to me in the living room.

"Just because you are three years older than her doesn't mean you can terrorize her." Mum scolded, as she sat on an arm chair two chairs away from me.

"Well, point of correction, it's four years not three."

She threw me a "mama" look.

"And...." I continued, "It's not terrorizing. I just corrected her, that's all."

"Oh really? I heard you calling her a stinky little web user." My mum stared at me upset.

"Well in my defence. She nodded when I said that." I smirked but later regretted that when my mum yelled.

"Out of fear! The poor girl was terrified. I want you to go apologize to her now."

"I can't." I complained, and waited for my mum to yell back.

But she said, " Yeah of course you can't, because tomorrow you'll go to the bakery and buy her a mini cake to take along. It's too late for you to do that now." It was six forty eight, I glanced at the clock.

"A cake?" I stood up  from the couch. I was upset too.

She stood and began to walk up the stairs, "No no no, it's a mini cake." I got what she was doing. I frowned as I watched her walk up the stairs.

"Mini cake! Pfft!"

   Well, I'm not always like this, I'm nicer. I'm Jamaica Tariq, I'm fourteen and I am an African American. I'm pretty, mum says but I do know it's true. I'm 5'8 with brown eyes and brown hair. I have the pinkest lips on the planet.

I'm one of those pear shaped girls, my friends say it's a nice shape but I think it's weird not having breasts. I dislike one thing about myself my stubby toenails. Apart from that I love myself. I'm a daddy's kid but I love mum. I have a little brother and an older sister in boarding school. I love to do tons of stuff, I love to write books, sing, dance, play soccer and I enjoy doing girl stuffs with girls but I really pull it off well with boy company.

I love kids, well the earlier scene didn't support this point. I just prefer some kids to some kids.

Well as I watched my mum walk up the stairs and go out of sight. I moved over to the kitchen, humming trying to take my mind off my mum and my neighbor's wimpy kid. I opened the fridge and I looked around. I saw candies, grape drinks and my mum's disgusting soy drink. I grabbed a carton of milk and broke the seal. My mug was at the counter and it seemed too far away for me to grab, so I stylishly moved the milk to my mouth and took a big gulp.

"Jamaica!" I heard my brother yell. I hurriedly returned the milk to the fridge. I heard him run down the stairs, classic Divan.

"Jama!" He shouted again.

"I'm here. Could you stop shouting?" I said.

I saw him with his new haircut, he just got this afternoon, and his phone in his hands.
He finally got down the stairs and stood outside the kitchen.

"Saw your vid on Instachat." He was hiding a smile.

"Oh really? Am I trending?" I asked sarcastically. Did I say I loved being sarcastic?

"Yeah." He smiled, "As the 'McCorn Choker'.”
He stretched his phone to me and I collected it.

There was the video of me choking on popcorn just yesterday evening on the porch. I swiped around for comments. One read: " Do yourself a favour and swallow well."

Another said, "Did the popcorn have thorns or is her mouth resistant to the snack?"

Another said: "Don't worry, I'll teach you. You take a piece of corn and put it in your mouth carefully. Then you chew to your satisfaction and swallow it. Note: do not choke. LOL."

Other people just went "lol" or "lmao" or "joker" and laughing emojis. I thought people were nicer but turns out most of them were just jerks. I was angry, I passed Divan his phone.

"Don't be upset." He collected his phone.

I sniffed and then came the sobs and the tears. I forgot to mention when I get very upset I cry. And that was exactly what I was doing. Divan dropped his phone and came around to put an arm on my shoulder. Despite the fact that he was eleven he was almost as tall as I was, well he was tall enough to put a hand on my shoulder.

"It's okay." He soothed. What else did I expect him to say. He wasn't the one on social media being insulted all because he choked on popcorn.

Divan led me to the couch.

I sniffed and Divan handed me a tissue.
"Thanks." I said and began to work on my face. I didn't cry often as I rarely got that angry.

"Sure." Divan let go and sat on the chair next to me.

"I'm sure Deja would have some advice for you."

I stared at him and asked, "Deja? She's in boarding school. How could she help me?"

"She's coming home. Didn't you hear? Her school closed down due to fund problems and she's going to be back home to start day school."

That was awesome. I was able to smile. I loved my big sister very much. I hated when she left but now that she was coming back we could do everything together. We would catch up, talk, read, go to school together and I'll finally be able to go to the mall with her and not mom.

Deja was so funny. I always thought she was a better version of me. I came back  to life. Divan was staring at me with his brows up.

"That's perfect." I said with a smile.

He said, "For a moment there, I thought you were in a trance."

I smiled, "I was in a trance. I saw eight angels and a big fat lion and a bowl of chocolate pudding. And yes I saw you mopping the floor too."

He laughed and moved towards the kitchen, "I wonder why I was mopping."

I stood and followed him, "Oh it turns out you were a janitor."

He laughed again until he held his belly. I loved making him laugh but more importantly. Deja was coming back!