Part 3 Let's Talk Trauma
"Damn I wish Jayden was in better spirits so we could have gone to his house after school. I hate coming to this damn place and I'm hungry." I said to myself as I looked in the empty cabinets in the kitchen. I know that was a wrong way to be thinking at this time, but shit, none of us had father figures, and we were doing pretty damn good with the hands that were dealt to us, so I wasn't sure why Jayden was even tripping the way he was. Hell, at least Dave and Jayden knew who their dad was. My mom was such a damn addict that she didn't have a clue or a name to give me. For all, I knew I was the result of her just trying to pay for her next fix. But I didn't let the things I couldn't change control my mind.
I had tried all day to cheer Jayden up, even tried to get him some head from this girl at school, all because I didn't want to come to this hell hole I was forced to call home. But the nigga wasn't having it. I missed Aunt Dorthies' house. I never wanted or needed anything. Some days I even wished that the drugs would put my mom out of her misery so I could go back to where I was happy and loved.
But Here I was hungry, damn near starving, ignored, and forced to defend for myself. No one knew the shit I was going through. I had to play cool at school, no matter how hungry I was, tried, or lacked new clothes or shoes. I said nothing and went with the flow so Jayden and Dave wouldn't know how bad things were for me at home. Those were my brothers, but this shit was embracing.
But I hated when them niggas would say they weren't eating school lunch cause that shit was nasty. They might have been right; the shit wasn't always the best, but it was something. And when they didn't eat, that meant I had to be on the same bandwagon, and most days, school lunch was the only meal I got unless we went to Jayden house, and then all of us would pig out on all the snacks, and food Jayden mom had in the crib. I would even stash some in my bookbag for later. And then Jayden's mom would cook us a good meal before making sure we got home safe.
I shook my head, grabbed my bookbag, and headed to my room. I knew I had saved at least twenty dollars. That would be enough for me to at least get the bare minimum of bread, peanut butter, jelly, milk, and maybe some honey nut cheerios to last me a few days. Hopefully, by the time that shit was gone, this stuff with Jayden would have run its course, and he would be back to his usual self.
My steps echoed through the empty apartment as I made my way through the small apartment to my room. When I opened the door, I stood there and dropped my bag in the doorway as I stared at my room that had been flipped upside down. "Im so tired of her doing this shit." I said as I rubbed my hand across my face. It was bad enough my room didn't have much but the twin-size bed and dresser that Aunt Dorthie let me take when my mom came and got me from her house.
I walked into the room, trying not to step on my clean clothes; she had poured out my dresser drawers and the broken mirror she had knocked down. I got to my mattress that was flipped up and with the sheet ripped off of it, and I reached in the cut I had made into it. I sat on the floor in disbelief, ready to cry, when I took my hand out. I loved my mom lord's knees, I do. There were nights I cried for her because I just wanted her in my life. But I hated the bitch her addiction had made her be.
I heard the front door close. "Yo mom, you really took my money," I said as I made my way back out of my room. She didn't respond. I turned the corner and saw her setting up on the kitchen corner. "Mom I know you didn't go through my room and take my money just so you can go get your next fix." I said with bass in my voice as I looked at the shit on the kitchen counter and the skinny woman that looked nothing like the beauty Aunt Dorthie used to show me in pictures. "Rico not right now." she said as she set up her lines of coke.
"If not now then when? I'm sick of this shit! Look how we are living? We don't have anything. Not a couch to sit on or a tv to watch. This shit has to stop. You're the parent and I'm the child. Your supposed to take care of me. Not me trying to figure it out for myself and you. No other kid my age is living like this. That $20 was all i had. And I hustled to get it. What am I supposed to eat?" i fussed. "Rico its stuff in here to eat you just aint look." she said to me, opening up the cabinets.
A look came over her face when she realized all of them were empty, not even a bag of rice. She went over to the fridge and opened that there was nothing in there, not even baken soda. I didn't even bring that in the house because I didn't want to risk my mom trying to make her own drugs when she was in desperate need and kill herself.
She looked back at me. "Im sorry baby. But I need this. It's the only way I can get through my days. You don't know the things I fight with when I don't use this stuff." she said to me. There was no excuse in my eyes. Even when Uncle Darren died, AUntie Dorthie went through it and wasn't herself, but Dave and I didn't go without anything we needed.
"Why not just let me go back to AUntie Dorthies house. I still have a room there and Dave says I am always welcomed back there." I said to her. "Because that bitch aint ya momma I am." My mom spits out with Venom. "Some mom you are," I said under my breath.
"What did you say?" She said as she came around the kitchen counter to me.
I knew not to repeat myself, but I stood there boldly, so she knew I meant what I said. "I should have just swallowed your ass or gotten rid of you. Your ass doesn't even know I kept you because I thought you would bring me love and peace that I was missing. I thought I'd have my own child and they would love me unconditionally but I got you." She said to me, looking me in the eye. "I wish you swallowed me too… or would just hurry up and die." I noted back out of anger, not thinking before the words left my mom.
My mom slapped me, and my rage took over, and before I knew it, my 16-year-old hands were wrapped around my mother's neck, and I was lifting her small frame off the ground. The blank stare in her eyes let me know that somewhere inside, she had already accepted that she was dead.
I let her go, and neither of us said a word. I walked off to my room and grabbed my book bag and clothes. When I came back out, my mom had picked herself up off the floor and made it back to the counter, and was sending a line up her nose. I shook my head. "Since you won't let me go back where things were good for me. If I die out here trying to figure it out for myself, don't cry over me." I said to her, She wiped the coke from her nose and put her head back, and closed her eyes. I walked to the door and exited the apartment. I didn't even bother closing the door behind me.