"Move from in front a mi," I say. But it comes out softer. Weaker. More honest than I intended. I'd be on the first plane out of here tomorrow. Nothing that we've said in the past twenty minutes would matter once I am on that plane. We are tied to each other, and our pasts don't have to intertwine any more than they already have. He doesn't move. I step sideways. He mirrors me, like he's tethered to the same gravity. "Kymani-" "Selah" My name in his mouth feels like a dare. A part of me wants it to feel like a promise. I shake the thought. After what feels like a standoff written in the marrow between us, he finally exhales and steps back. Barely. But enough. I don't waste it. I slip from his hold, my heartbeat pounding in my throat, in my ears, in the soles of my feet as I bolt toward the door. I leave him there. Leave the house. Leave the heat still burning between us. And I run. Fast, desperate, the same way I did the first time I left this place. The same way I survived. I don't look back. Not at him. Not at the house. Not at the version of myself that's still trembling inside those walls. Not anymore.

Honestly, mi feel like mi too young fi have dem kinda man problem yer. Because all now mi cyaa leff di bwoy. Ah mussi tie him tie mi. I hear the driver's side door open and I flash open my eyes to see Micheal coming into the driver's seat. He doesn't say anything as he pulls out his phone to connect it to the car. Without warning he starts the car and pulls out of the driveway, adjusting his seatbelt as he turns onto the street. "Noelle, mi honestly nuh inna di bagga chatting right now, so it better if mi juss carry yuh back a yuh aunty yaad" his voice is low and I could hear his annoyance and anger in every word. "Mi nuh know why yuh so angry Micheal...but yea bring mi back ah mi yaad because mi nuh waan deh roun yuh right now" I say turning my head to look out the window, crossing my arms in the process. "Eeeh? A suh it aguh go?" he asks with an emotionless stare. "Bet" He starts to speed up the car, turning up the music on the stereo as he overtook the car in front of us. Fada God please don't mek this man run we off ah the road and kill we.

Under construction! 🚧 Wrote this when I was thirteen published when I was fourteen as you can guess Errors all over! Bare with me