Jesus is the Answer.

I.

London.

I woke up to sores. On my legs, thighs, arms. Just everywhere. I remembered the brutal beating I had received last night.

Flashback.

I opened the front door and shut it as quiet as I could. I noticed the dining room light was still on, from this afternoon. I went to turn it off as I heard puffing.

"Fuck." I thought to myself.

"Well, well, well." I heard his booming voice say.

I stood there, looking at him, not making a single bit of noise.

He stood up and crushed his blunt as he walked towards me. I slowly backed away, as I knew what was going to happen. I went back so much, that I ended up hitting a wall.

He didn't even say anything at that point, he just threw punches. Punches that hit my face and stomach. He slapped me so hard, I thought my face was going to fall off. He choked me strong, I knew I was going to die.

But I knew this was happening for a reason. So I called out, with all my strength, the two words that brought me joy.

"Jesus Christ."

And with that being said, he kicked me, spit on me, and left the house.

•

Waking up, I brushed my teeth and took a shower with hot water. I felt so relieved, but right after I stepped out, pain filled my entire body.

I lotionized myself and slipped on some denim jeans, along with a black and white long sleeved striped tee. I slid on some socks with all black Vans. I grabbed my phone, black bucket hat, and a messenger bag.

I went downstairs, quietly, trying not to wake the beast up. I took a bottle of Fanta out of the fridge and left. I quickly got in my car and drove off to work.

I pulled up in the parking lot and got out. I walked inside the mall, to be greeted by random people. I went to American Apparel and clocked in. I clipped my badge on my pants and walked over to some clothes. I got a stool and stood on it, reaching for a hat.

"Aye, lil mama, ya' need some help?" Someone below me said.

"Nah."

He chuckled. "Yo' ass know damn well ya' need the help. Get offa' the stool."

I got off, barely paying attention to his face, as he got the hat. He handed it over to me, as I took it.

"Thank ya'." I said, quietly.

"Ya'see, whea' I'm from, ya' look at the person when you talk. So try again."

"Yo'. I ain't got time fa' this shit."

"I could put it back, 'cause'a that attitude."

"Put it back. The fuck that gotta' do with me?" I wasn't mad, but I sure was on the road of being pissed off.

"Whea' you from?"

"As I said. I ain't got time fa' this. Ya' lil' buddies in the back waitin' fa' ya'."

"Ansa' my question and I'ma leave."

"Atlanta. Bye." I waved him off before he could say something.

He left and I went back to restocking.

+

I had a couple more minutes until my shift was over, so I gathered my things and clocked out. I walked out of Apparel and headed to Journey's.