PART 1
Chapter 1
"Tough times never last but tough people do."
- John Wayne
Almost as long as I can remember, I have been lied to, beaten up,
abused, raped, and so on and so forth that I became numb to all the pain
that I endured. My parents didn't give a shit about me. All they cared
about was getting high. Denise (which is what I call my mother) met Pop
(which is what everyone calls my father) when she was 14 and he
was 22. So the story goes, Denise got knocked up on the first night and
had me when she was 15. Pop got a little factory job and Denise started
working at a diner when she turned 16. My first memories were pretty
happy. We did things as a family and my parents, though young, seemed to
love each other. My mother and I did everything together and I was the
apple of my fathers eye.I vividly remember going to parks, state fairs, movies, and just having a great time. Then, when I was 5, Pop lost his job and some asshole talked him into selling drugs. He got the hang of it and before you knew it, he had a pretty good hustle going. Life was grand for us. I couldn't believe all of those nice toys and pretty dresses belonged to me. Every Saturday Pop would take me to a little cafe called The Cottage Cheese for breakfast. My wavy hair would be freshly curled and Denise would have me dressed in the prettiest chiffon dresses complete with ruffled socks and patented leather Mary Janes. My father would beam proudly into my dark brown eager face and all of the patrons at The Cottage Cheese knew me by name and always remarked on how beautiful I looked. I always ordered the same thing every time: A huge stack of buttermilk pancakes with confectioners sugar sprinkle across. I was the picture of innocence. I was the naive 5 year old daughter of a drug dealer. Sweet little Kisha. These are the memories I try to hold on to with my dear life as I try to pull happiness out of the air like magic.
Unfortunately, sweet little Kisha and her dreams of growing up to be a fairytale princess who could eat pancakes everyday was short lived. Pop went from selling crack to smoking crack in less than a year and Denise was right behind him. 10 years later and they're both still strung out on anything they can get their hands on. Whatever money we get goes up their noses, in their lungs, or through their veins. My life went from powdered sugar and pancakes to powdered cocaine and crack rocks in seemingly an instant. I try the best I can to take care of things around the house but its hard when I have to fuck random men just to keep these fools high.
It
was noon and I was just getting up. I slept all night and morning
because I was on my period and in major discomfort. Sleeping all night
is a luxury for me.
"Kish, you up yet?," Pop said, coming into the room.
"Nah, whats up?"
"I got somebody coming for you in about an hour."
"Come on now Pop, you know why I aint seen nobody today," I rolled over in disgust.
"So what? Clean yourself up, get pretty, he'll never know the difference."
"I'm
not doing it," I said, and pulled the blanket over my head. Pop yanked
the blanket with one hand and my hair with the other.
"Bitch
I own you!," he growled at me. "You will do what the fuck I say and I
say be ready in an hour!" With another tug at my hair, he left the room.
I rolled my eyes, got up, and went to the mirror. Pop's words resounded in my head. Get pretty.
I examined my features. Everything was large. Large eyes, large nose,
too big for my face mouth. Dark acne ridden skin. Like Denise always
said, I wasn't no beauty queen. I turned around. Now my body, that was a
different story. Full D cups, slim waist, hips and ass for days with
big legs. I was a neck down dime. I started brushing my still beautiful
long hair, still tender where Pop pulled it. Through the mirror, I saw
Denise walk in behind me.
"Get out," I said.
"But I..."
"Get.
The fuck. OUT!" I yelled. She lowered her head and slowly walked out
like a kicked puppy. I could get away with talking to her in a way I
could never talk to Pop. I despised both of them, but for different
reasons. I hated Pop because he was pure unadulterated evil. I hated
Denise because she was weak, never protecting me, never protecting
herself. She was like a child, always following orders. The weakness in
her disgusted me.
True
to his word, Pop came knocking on the door an hour later with No Name
#29. I'm not sure what shocked me the most about NN29, the fact that he
was young or that he was so handsome. I'd stopped being embarrassed long
ago but this time a slight blush crept up to my face. He was beautiful
with jet black smooth skin, curls, dark eyes, and had the nerve to have a
dimple. Pop left me alone with him. It was that time. That time where I
wish I was anywhere but here. I zoned out a little and tried to think
about The Cottage Cheese... but those dark hooded eyes and those
dimple.....
I
took a deep breath and stared him straight in the eyes, hardening my
exterior. "75 for the right hole, 150 for the wrong hole, and 50 for
head, " I muttered off the prices like a seasoned waitress. NN29 just
laughed. Did this asshole just laugh? It was a... nervous laugh.
What do you know, he was embarrassed too! I never thought I would see a
shred of humanity in this god-forsaken hell hole.
"What's your name?" he asked. Like you give a damn.
"Kisha"
"How old are you?" What the fuck is this, Vibe 21 questions?
"19," I lied, adding 3 years to my actual age.
"Me
too! I go to Central University, one of my boys told me about you. Rich
white kid, I don't even see why he has to pay for ass"
"NN23," I mumbled.
"Huh?"
"Nothin'"
"Well, I'm Charles," he held out his hand to shake it. Are you kidding me? I'm too drained for this shit. I was ready to get down to business.
"Nice
to meet you... Charles," I said like a proper lady of leisure. I
hesitantly shook his hand. Soft skin. He smelled like Jergens Original
Scent. I cleared my throat.
His eyes caught mine, just long enough for Pops to come busting back in the room.
{to be continued}
Chapter 2
"A secrets worth depends on the people from whom it must be kept."
-Carlos Ruiz Zafon
"What
the fuck is going on!," Pop yelled, all anger directed toward me. "I'm
out here waitin on ya'll to finish up and all I hear is yappin. Give
this motherfucker what he came here for so I can get paid!"
NN29 stammered in my defense. "I-I-I'm sorry sir, I was just trying to figure out what I...wanted."
"What you WANTED!” Pop boomed, "This ain't gotdamn McDonalds, you don't have too many options, son."
29
composed himself long enough to pull out his wallet and discard 5 crisp
$20 bills and handed them to Pop. He sure knew the way to a mans heart.
It was like the sun burst through the clouds or some shit. Pop gave
his signature toothless grin as Mr. Hyde left the room and Dr. Jekyll
pocketed the money. A sense of relief washed over me. Pop was dangerous
when he got angry. He was the only person in the entire world I could
honestly say I was afraid of. I'd rather put on a blindfold and fuck
with Suge Knight than deal with Pop when he was mad. Pop left the room
and apparently the house since we heard the front door slam shut.
We were quiet for a few minutes. I nervously watched a roach crawl up the wall behind his head.
"What DO you want?, " I broke the silence.
"Well... I was kind of hoping to lose my virginity." Was he for real?
I
laughed so hard I could have choked. I look him up and down and decided
that this was some type of joke. I was waiting for the cameras and
Ashton Kutcher cause I was for sure being Punk'd.
"Look,
you don't have to believe me," he continued, "I just thought maybe..."
his voice trailed off. "Anyway, I've changed my mind."
"You already paid," I stated matter of factly. What can I say? I was fair.
"Well, I don't know, let's just talk a minute. So, who was dude? Your pimp or whatever?”
"He's my father."
This
stunned the hell out of 29. The look on his face was priceless. I was
getting frustrated. WHY THE FUCK WAS HE HERE? He said he changed his
mind, didn't he?
"Well,
I guess you can leave now," I said uncomfortably. "If you wanna just
sit here and talk like we friends, I really ain't in the mood." I was
hoping he wouldn’t dare approach Pop for a refund though. I CERTAINLY
didn’t want to deal with his shenanigans.
"Nah, I paid. I'm staying," He said authoritatively, all shyness gone now. That fool smiled at me. His dimples twinkled.
"Fuck you wanna talk about then?" I countered, much attitude.
He faced me on the bed. "Why are you doing this?"
"Look around, we need money."
"I see. What do you like to do in your... free time?"
"Fantasize."
"No, what do you like to do?"
"Fuckin FANTASIZE. Daydream. Relax."
"Hmmmm... excuuuuse me. So where'd you go to high school?"
"I didn't."
"Is that even legal? Didn't you have to go to high school?"
I laughed. "Is any of this legal? Clearly we don't do shit lawfully 'round here."
He stared at me intently for a full minute or so, making me uncomfortable. I just wanted this to be over.
"We
doing this or not?" I asked. I was started to feel comfortable, which
was making me feel uncomfortable if that makes any sense.
"Not." Okay so why are you here? I'm cramping like hell and I want you gone.
"Look...," I started.
"Charles."
"Look Charles, I'm sorry this wasn't what you expected, but you have to leave. I got stuff to do."
"Stuff like what? Fantasize?" He laughed. I smiled in spite of myself. There was something about this boy.
"How long have you be
I asked. I was started to feel comfortable, which was making me feel uncomfortable if that makes any sense.
"Not." Okay so why are you here? I'm cramping like hell and I want you gone.
"Look...," I started.
"Charles."
"Look Charles, I'm sorry this wasn't what you expected, but you have to leave. I got stuff to do."
"Stuff like what? Fantasize?" He laughed. I smiled in spite of myself. There was something about this boy.
"How long have you been doing this? You're only 18 so it couldn't have been long." Here he go with these nosy assed questions. I meant to say 'none of your gotdamn business'. Had my mouth ready to spew venom. But that's not what happened... I still don't know why, maybe it was his beautiful eyes that threw me off balance. Or his innocence. But for the first time that whole afternoon, I told the truth.
"7 years."
His jaw dropped.
He got up slowly and backed away.
I PANICKED. I never let anyone get information out of me. My mind raced, I had to think fast.
“I was just kidding, of course!” I let out a forced laugh. I don’t think he was buying it.
"I.. gotta go," he stammered.
"By all means, go." I got up and opened the door for him to exit. Tears were stinging in my eyes, I felt judged for some reason and didn't understand why all of a sudden I cared about what a stranger thought. He stopped in his tracks at the sight of my red rimmed eyes, touched me very softly on my cheek, looked around the shabby room, and left.
My mind raced. Why did I say that? Why did I tell him that? What if he told someone? Pop would kill me. I calmed down by convincing myself that he was just over here to smash and didn't care. I laid down on the bed and closed my eyes. I could actually get some rest without Pop in the house. Sometimes you can't think of anything except what you're trying not to think of. I guess that's why 29's dimple was the only picture in my mind. I got out my little notebook and looked through the list of names. There was Red Beard, Hot Breath, 70s Clothes, DuRag, until I started just using numbers.. then there was NN1-NN28 and I remembered them all. I don't know why I kept a list like this. In my mind we were all victims. I wrote "NN29", then crossed it out and wrote "Charles". I smiled. He really didn't belong on this list, we didn't do anything. I looked at his name again. Smiled again.
{to be continued}
Chapter 3
"A real mother understands what a child does not say."
- Roseanne Barr
The next week was hectic. My body was sore and my mind was tired. Pop kept me busier than ever, he was a tyrant. Every time I looked around there was some man in my face. New people. He must have really been desperate for cash because for the most part, he usually only had me see the 'regulars'. The more my clientèle grew, the more I blocked reality. I daydreamed about being a typical teenager worried about homework and prom. About having great parents. About having a boyfriend. With a dimple...
The one person in the world I believe Pop truly loved was Denise. He hardly yelled at her and even through their shared addiction, they seemed to care only about each other.. and drugs. So I knew shit was about to get out of hand in this house when Pop put Denise to work. She took men in her room, and I took them in mine. A mother/daughter duo, prostituting ourselves. I didn't go to school, and had very little outside influence, but I knew this was some sick shit. I mostly ignored her. At 16 years old, I found her weak and disgusting.
More weeks passed, more men came. I found myself daydreaming about Charles often, even though I hadn't seen him in a month.
One morning I found Denise crying in the living room that had always been void of furniture. I hated her, and even the sight of her crying stirred no emotion. Still, I was curious.
"What the fuck is wrong with you and where's Pop?"
"He's out." she quickly tried to dry her eyes and get herself together. "There go some clothes." She pointed to a box in the corner, cast away clothes from the church up the street.
"Why are you crying?" I said, ignoring the clothes. Silence. After about 40 seconds, she spoke.
"I wanna get clean, I wanna go to rehab. I can't live like this anymore.."
I laughed like hell. She was cool with being on drugs, while I was the one working to get her ass high. Now she wants to better herself. Naw fuck that. After I finished bowling over with laughter, something inside me snapped and I lashed out at her.
"Oh NOW you wanna get clean! Why now! Is it because you finally have to go through what I've BEEN going through?! You were just fine letting different men come up in here and do whatever the fuck they want to me? Your own daughter? Now it's happening your crackhead ass, and you wanna get clean!" She just sat there and the tears started back up, this time flowing like a river down her cheeks, streaking her dollar store makeup. God I hated this pitiful woman. I shook my head at her shrunken, dusty appearance.
"Fuck you!" I shouted at her.
"I love you," she whispered. Barely audible. "It's the drugs, the drugs kept me from helping you. HE IS MY HUSBAND. He owns me. He owns us."
"You make me sick," I said and stormed out of the room. How dare she try and blame it on the drugs!
Pop stayed gone the rest of the day, which was awesome for me. The next morning I walked around the house and saw Denise sitting on the toilet firing up her crack pipe, I ignored her and looked through the whole house and didn't see Pop anywhere. It wasn't like him to be gone so long without Denise. He stayed gone all day, and I didn't mind one bit. I spent the day cleaning and watching the little tv in my parents room. Denise walked around lost and aimless, I could tell she didn't know where he was either.
Three days passed and still no Pop. I was beyond confused, and we had run out of food. Denise was in the bathroom, she was in a heap on the floor fidgeting and sweating. She looked pale and sick. Well, more-so than usual anyway. I helped her get her frail body off of the floor and into the bed. I ran some cool water over a face cloth and put it against her forehead. I had about 80 bucks I'd saved in 'tips'. I took a shower and got dressed. I threw on some jeans and a t-shirt I found in the box from church, brushed my long hair into a loose bun and went outside. I walked to the corner and went in a market to get a few groceries. I got enough for me and Denise to eat for a few days because who knows what Pop was up to, even though I was pretty sure Denise wasn't interested in eating. I got a few toiletries, like soap and toothpaste. Then I went to the dealer standing across the street and got 20 dollars worth of crack cocaine. I walked back home 53 dollars lighter. I looked in on Denise who was hyperventilating and rocking back and forth. I went in the kitchen and prepared a sandwich and a glass of soda. I went into Denise's room. I sat the food on the makeshift nightstand and waved the crack in front of her face. Her eyes widened and she snatched at the bag. I put it back in my pocket. I didn’t like that I liked it, but this feeling of power came over me. I smiled in spite of myself because I never had any control.
"First, you eat."
"I'm not hungry. Just... help me." She really did look pitiful. And she was still my mother. Ugh.
"First, you eat," I repeated. She took the sandwich and took a few bites.
"The whole thing." She finished off the sandwich and her soda. I tossed the bag at her and said, "Make it last as long as you can."
Before we knew it a week had passed. Still there was no Pop. We had no clue where he was and no customers came because Pop handled all of that. Denise had smoked the 20 rock and was in a state of disarray once again. I was running low on funds and I knew I could not keep her high without Pop. She was going crazy. She closed her door and screamed and cried, having a fit. I was low on funds but I went back to the dealer. This time I only got a dime bag. I got home and passed it to Denise.
“I dont want it.”
Girl, what?
I didn't really feel feel like playing her game so I threw the crack on her faded duvet and turned on my heel. "Make it last," I called out behind me.
Things people do stopped shocking me years ago but I was completely stunned by her next move. She took the dime bag from me, crying, walked to the toilet and flushed it. Huh? I felt like I was in the Twilight Zone. Just then we heard a knock at the door. Pop would have used a key. I swung the door open anyway to find those eyes that looked straight through me and that beautiful dimpled smile.
{to be continued}
Chapter 4
“There’s only two people in your life you should lie to, your girlfriend and the police.”
-Jack Nicholson
This day was getting stranger and stranger. First, Denise’s junky ass flushed some perfectly smokeable crack down the toilet, now Charles is standing in my doorway. He was somber, not seemingly very happy to be here. I hadn’t seen him since he came to get his virginity taken… except in my fantasies. I couldn’t believe he was here and I was standing there staring in a trance, not really knowing what to say.
“Rude. You won’t even let us in?” There was the dimple. I got lost in his smile for a second. Wait... Us? I pushed the door open a little and noticed two stunningly beautiful women. My jealousy flared up as I wondered why they were here. I looked down at the hole in my shirt and immediately felt insecure. I glanced around the living room. No furniture but at least it was clean. Denise came around the corner looking like the epitome of a crackhead with an ill fitted housedress and a matted wig. I rolled my eyes. Since she went through the trouble of putting a wig on, I assumed she thought it was Pop at the door. She looked at me and I just shrugged. I had no more of an idea than she did about what was going on.
"Hey," Charles looked from me to Denise, "May we come in or what?"
"Umm, they really don't have a choice," said a woman with a neatly manicured mohawk. She held up a badge. Cops? She sure didn't look like any cop to me with that hair, not to mention the skinny jeans and 4 inch heels. I really didn't like her tone. Fuck you mean I don't have a choice? I backed up so they could come in. Charles and Mohawk came in while the other chick lingered on the porch looking around a bit. She certainly didn't look like a cop either with her curly afro, wooden earrings, and long billowy skirt. Denise just stood there taking everything in. Afro eventually came in and shut the door behind her.
Mohawk spoke first. "So you're name is...."
"On my birth certificate,” I said.
“Well I was just-”, Mohawk started.
“What you need? Clearly this ain't no social call," I interrupted. Mohawk thought carefully about how to proceed. I don't think she expected so much belligerence from me but I couldn't help it, I was raised to distrust cops.
"Well," Mohawk continued, "I am Detective Davidson, and this is Detective Muhammad," she said, pointing to Afro. "We came here to... talk. We know you're name is Lakisha Taylor."
"The fuck you ask me for then?" I was wishing she would get to the point. Denise continued to say nothing. Detective Davidson let out an exasperated sigh.
"How old are you?" Something told me she already knew. Detective Muhammad was jotting down notes in a notepad.
"None of you're damn business." I looked at Charles, hoping he could feel the disgust radiating off of my body at him for bringing these strangers in here, all up in my business.
"Listen Kisha," Detective Davidson started, "I'm here to help, don't even think of me as a detective. Call me Ashley, and you can call her Tasia," she gestured to Detective Muhammad, who nodded in agreement. She spoke for the first time. I sighed.
"Is there anywhere we could sit and talk?" said Tasia sympathetically. Her eyes held pity, giving me another reason to hate them.
"Ya'll too good to sit on the floor?" Charles, Ashley, and Tasia sat on the floor. I did as well while Denise slinked off to another room somewhere.
"It has been brought to our attention that your father, Jarrett Taylor, has been prostituting you out for 7 years, we already have him in custody" said Tasia. "We just want to know from you what exactly has been happening." I cut my eyes at Charles.
"All lies," I said. "I guess he told you that! If it's true, if I'm a prostitute, then how does he know? Tell them it's not true, Charles, or I'll tell them everything!" I looked at Charles, pleadingly.
Ashley cleared her throat. "We sent him. We've been watching men come in and out for years and assumed it was for your mother. We had no idea you or your father were involved." She pulled out a tape recorder and played bits of the conversation Charles and I had, and stopped the recording when I heard myself say "7 Years"My cheeks burned, I was so flushed. They sent him? He was a cop?. I looked away in embarrassment.
"Kisha, I'm sor-"
"Fuck you, and its not true. I was just talking."
"So you're saying it's not true?" said Tasia. Was this bitch deaf or something?
"It's all true." Everyone whipped around to see Denise standing there, crying. "It's all true and its all my fault. We sold our own daughter for drugs." She slumped into a heap on the floor. Ashley snapped, instantly angry.
"How could you?! How could you do this to your 16 year old daughter!," she yelled. I was beginning to feel like I was in the Twilight Zone.
"Stand down, detective," said Tasia. She went over and kneeled down next to Denise and let her cry for a while before she quietly asked what happened. I couldn't believe this, the woman who had never once in her life defended me told these officers every single gory detail of our lives. How she and Pop got on drugs. How they started selling me to men when I was 8. The part she played in it. Every detail. She told her story through heart wrenching sobs and I was too drained to protest.
The next couple of hours were a blur. Charles recited Denise's Miranda rights before he pulled a pair of handcuffs seemingly out of nowhere and tightened them around her wrist and walked her out the door. She mouthed 'I love you' to me as Charles paraded her past me and out the door. My heart broke and everything leaked out. My life sucked the sweat off a donkey’s balls but it was MY life. Too numb to cry, I stood there in my living room with Tasia and Ashley. None of us seemed to know what to do. Ashley cleared her throat.
"I'm sorry sweetheart, but I have to talk to you." She asked me a barrage of questions. Did I go to school? Have I ever been to a general doctor or dentist? Have I ever told anyone? No. No. No. I was broken inside as everything I had ever known was about to change and the uncertainty of it all scared me. Was I going to jail too?
"Come on baby, you have to come with us." Tasia gently ushered me out the door and put me in the backseat of her SUV while Ashley hopped in the front. We rode in silence and I counted the trees whizzing by. Of all that just happened, all the traumatic drama of both my parents being in jail, all I could think about was Charles. He betrayed me. Sure, it was his job. but somehow I felt a strange connection to him. While I was sitting there thinking, the car stopped. We were at our destination... wherever that was. I was starting to panic.
"Where are we?" I asked, too drained and too tired to protest when Ashley jumped out the front seat, opened my door, and ushered me out the car. Tasia came around to my other side. I just realized that I didn't bring anything with me. Also realizing that I wasn't asked to, I was really starting to become curious about this strange building on the other side of town.
"This is the Davina Scruggs Crisis Center, affectionately known as DSCC. We have been cleared by the courts to put you in their custody," says Tasia.
Custody? When I hear the word custody.... I think of jail. Are these bougie bitches nicely telling me that I'm in juvie or some shit? I looked at both of them, Tasia was squinting at the building from the glare of the sun while Ashley was picking at her manicured nails. They seemed a bit nonchalant to be putting me in jail. My first thought was to run but I looked down at the second hand Crocs I was wearing and quickly dismissed the idea.
I walked to the building with them, my steps painstaking and deliberate, wondering my fate. When we reached the glass doors, Ashley swiftly typed a few numbers in the keypad next to the door. We heard a click and entered a lobby encased with glass. A security officer sat at a corner table and asked us to remove everything from our pockets and place them in a tray, then walk through a metal detector. Ashley and Tasia put their cell phones, keys, gum, and other miscellaneous items in the tray while I looked on… cause I didn’t have shit with me. We walked through the metal detector and the security officer smiled and said Ms. Stampley was expecting us. Expecting us? While all this was going on, I quickly observed what was happening beyond the glass.
There was a huge room, big enough to fit my whole house, hell two of them. In one corner was a plush L-shaped couch in front of a large television, where about 4 or 5 girls were waiting patiently for Maury to tell them who the daddy was. In another corner there were some chicks playing Spades or something at a card table. In the far back, I saw more girls playing pool. There were two sets of elevators and doors everywhere. One thing I knew, this was no juvenile detention center. The security officer made a quick call.
“They’re here.” She hung up.
The security guard got up and opened the second set of doors. She motioned for us to follow. We walked through the huge room to the elevators, curious eyes were watching me the whole time. We went straight up to the 5th floor where a woman greeted us at the door. The security guard left us with this woman and went right back downstairs. The woman smiled warmly at the three of us.
“Heeeeey girl!” Ashley was so damn flamboyant, from her personality to her Mohawk. I was starting to like these two.
“Hey Ash, Hey Tasia,” the woman hugged them. “What yall been up to?” Did these bitches forget I was here? This was so damn rude. I cleared my throat and broke up the love fest.
“Hello young lady, how are you?”
“Who are you? Why am I here?” I said, impatiently.
“I’m Mrs. Stampley!” she said brightly. And damn proud of being Mrs. Stampley too.
“Why am I here? What is this place?”
“This is DSCC! You’ll be staying with us a while!! Come on in so I can explain!” Damn she was chipper, so happy. How do people do that? She ushered us into her office.
We sat in the three chairs facing Stampley’s desk. She pulled out a manila folder and scanned the paperwork inside.
“LaKisha, you will be with us unless the courts decide to place you somewhere else. Everyone here is placed here upon a recommendation to a judge. To my understanding a young detective…. Charles Dotson, fought hard for you to be specifically here over any other facility. Detectives Muhammad and Davidson here, seconded his decision in a lengthy report.”
They wanted me to be here? But why? My heart fluttered at the mere mention of Charles’ name, but I pushed that feeling aside. I didn’t trust feelings not associated with pain. As for Ashley and Tasia, I wondered why they gave two shits about me being here. When the report was made, they hadn’t even met me yet.
“Well since I’m here, and clearly ain’t got no say so in it, what is place anyways? Don’t seem like no jail.”
Stampley laughed. “It’s far from a jail, it’s a group home for young women between the ages of 12 and 18.”
“Like a orphanage?” I’m an orphan now? My parents weren’t coming back or something? I had so many questions.
“I guess, like an orphanage. Your mother is prison awaiting trial with quite a few charges, while your father is also in prison awaiting trial for child prostitution and SEVERAL other charges.” Stampley watched me digest this information.
“Well I can take care of myself, I wanna go home. They ain’t been convicted of nothing yet.”
“I’m sorry LaKisha, you have to be here. You know, until everything is straightened out.”
Tasia got a call. She stepped out of the room for a few minutes.
“We have a lot to do today, I just hope you don’t get overwhelmed. First, I will give you a tour, then you will have an exam at our clinic, Then we get you some clothes to wear so you can get showered and settled in your room in time for dinner.”
Tasia came back in, told Ashley they had to go. I wanted them to stay. They both looked at me, then came in for a hug at the same time. My body stiffened immediately but they hugged me anyway and said they’d come visit. They said their goodbyes to Stampley and vanished.
“Well, let me take you on a tour.” She showed me the large cafeteria first, then the recreational room the girls used in their free time, then the classrooms. “Tomorrow after breakfast, we will have someone test your aptitude and determine what grade you will be in.”
“The school is here?”
“No you will be going to the local High School. The classrooms are for tutoring sessions and GED courses, some people don’t want to go to school.” Me included, but I didn’t mention that because I didn’t feel like dealing with it. We took the elevators back to her office.
“There are 5 floors to this building and floors 2-4 are the dormitories. The recreational room, classes, and cafeteria are on the first. The offices, and clinic are on the 5th. There is a pool outside, as well a tennis court. There are 4 girls to a room, each room has 2 bathrooms with a shower connecting the two. Each room also has a TV equipped with cable. What size clothes and shoes do you wear?”
“Medium shirt, 7 pants, size 8 shoes,” I said, taking it all in. I was so tired.
"Wait here," she left and came back with a pink tee, a pair of jeans and some flip flops.
“This is the best I can do, “ she said. Maybe she didn’t know that this simple outfit was 10 times nicer than anything I owned.
“What about tomorrow?”
“I will give you another outfit, then you can go shopping. The state pays us to keep you here and a portion of that money goes to you for things you may need. $200 stipend every Wednesday, but I will see to it that you get yours tomorrow.” She looked me in the eyes. “LaKisha, I really hope you give DSCC a chance to help you.” She smiled, and even though I still found her too chipper and annoying, I was starting to feel comfortable around her.
“Mrs…”
“Call me Stamp, all the girls do.”
“OK..uh… Stamp, I’m tired as hell.” What can I say? I was a blunt person.
“I know sweetie, you have to have a quick medical exam and then one of our staff will show you to your room.” She put the clothes in a bag along with a little case full of toothpaste, a toothbrush, shampoo, lotion, soap, deodorant, and a comb. She called someone to come escort me to the clinic.
“Well LaKisha, one of my staff, Stacy, is coming for you. I’ll see you in the morning sugar.”
Stacy came, just as chipper as Stamp, her blonde hair bouncing as she walked.
“Hi I’m Stacy, I’m going to take you to the clinic and get you settled in a room afterwards.”
At the clinic, I was checked for lice and TB. They also gave me a pap smear, urine test, and blood test, checked my height and weight, then sent me out in the hall. I sat out there about an hour while Stacy talked with the doctor. After finally deeming me healthy enough to go lay the fuck down somewhere, bright eyed Stacy came back out to take me to my room. We got on the elevator and went down one floor and stopped in front of door 410.
“This is your room, I hope you like it,” Stacy said strangely, her chipperness gone. She gave me a key and was gone. Whatever. I just wanted a shower and a nap. I opened the door and saw that there were only 2 girls there even though Stamp said there’d be 4 to a room. They were both on the same bed watching Greys Anatomy. One was Black, the other was Hispanic and clearly pregnant. She looked like she was about to pop.
“Whats up, Im KeKe and this Amanda,” KeKe said gesturing to herself and then the Hispanic chick.
“Hey,” Amanda gushed. “I’m so glad we get another girl up in here, I’m sick of this chick,” she said laughing.
“Its only two of yall?” I asked.
“Yup. I was moved here last month when they found out I was pregnant.” KeKe said, popping her gum.
“Wait, what the fuck, both of yall pregnant?,” I asked incredulously.
“Yeah girl, you must be in here by accident if you aint. Better talk to Stamp about that. This the pregnant room.”
I threw my bag down and ran out the door to the elevator. When I got on the elevator, I saw Stacy.
“Whats wrong, you don’t like the girls?”
“Nah, it aint that, I just need to talk to Stamp.”
“Well ok, Im headed there myself, come on”
I rushed into Stamps office, Stacy following behind.
“Why you got me in the pregnant room? I wanna be somewhere else.”
Stamp didn't look up from her computer. “I’m sorry, its easier if we put you all together.” What?
“Im not pregnant! Shit I just had a period last month!”
Stamp dropped everything she was doing and looked dumbfounded at Stacy. “You mean she doesn’t know?”
{to be continued}
Authors Note: This is a short chapter, because I wanted to introduce you to Charles' P.O.V. Due to the length, I will update again midweek.
"Investigation may be likened to the long months of pregnancy and solving a problem to the day of birth. To investigate a problem is, indeed, to solve it."
-Mao Zedong
Charles P.O.V
My first month as a detective was proving to be more stressful than I could have ever imagined. I mean, I have wanted to be one ever since I was a young child and had worked my ass off to get here. I graduated at the top of my class with a Bachelor's degree in Criminal justice at age 21. After proving myself with South Boston Police Department, I became an apprentice detective in no time. Now, I was starting to rethink my decision. I don't know if I have the kind of grit to deal with this. My first case already has my head spinning. Who would pimp out their 16 year old daughter for drugs? The very thought of such a thing was enough to send me into a blind rage. I believed that all children should be protected.
There was so much about this case that was confusing. Before my superiors sent me to Devon Taylor aka 'Pop', they sent my colleague Andrew Wilkins. He gained access to the Taylor's home, but reported back that nothing was amiss. They sent me in for confirmation. One minute in that house, and a rookie detective could tell that something was up. There was something fishy about the whole situation and I was determined to get to the bottom of it.
I decided to take a hot shower to wash off the days events. Lakisha Taylor kept popping into my head. She looked so hurt when she found out I was investigating her and I couldn't get the look on her face out of my mind. I hated myself for thinking this about a 16 year old, but I thought she was drop dead gorgeous with her Hershey dark skin, exotic features and long natural jet black hair. She was a beauty queen. Her eyes, slightly slanted, were enough to have a man in a trance-like state of awe. As I was rinsing off I heard someone come in. I peeped behind the curtain and smiled, knowing who it was.
"Hey baby," I said to my girlfriend, Carter.
"Hey boo, don't mind me. I'm just touching up my makeup" she called back.
She was always touching up her makeup, which she didn't need at all. Carter was exquisite. She had soft Cape Verdean features and an amazing ultra-slim frame that she spends hours a day in the gym perfecting. She looked more like a model than anything, and turned heads everywhere she went. I got out and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around my nether-region. I creeped up behind her and gave her a peck on the cheek.
"Stop boy, you'll ruin my makeup!"
"You don't need all that shit anyway beautiful"
Carter was amazing. Not only was she finer than a frog's hair, but she was ambitious as well. She was currently studying pre-med, and had a bright future ahead of her. I think she might be "the one".
I walked into my bedroom and got dressed and saw that I had a few missed calls from my supervisor Ashley. I hurriedly called her back, because it must have been important. She picked up the phone on the first ring.
"What's up old school?" I said laughing, we always joked on each other's ages.
"34 is not old, thank you very much! Anyway, there's been a new development on the Taylor case. Stamp called, and Lakisha passed a pregnancy test"
My heart dropped to the bottom of my stomach. All that kid has been through, and now she's pregnant? How could life even be that unfair?
"How far along?" I asked, swallowing the lump in my throat.
"She will find out tomorrow. But I just wanted to keep you updated, I'll hit you up later," she said, and hung up.
I decided to call Wilkins. Something just wasn't right.
"Hey Dotson!" he boomed into the phone. Wilkins was a boisterous young white guy with a frat boy persona. I cut to the chase.
"How the hell did you miss that Wilkins?" I knew that he knew exactly what I was talking about.
"I-I don't know man. Pop just invited me in for a couple beers. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. I sure as hell ain't see no 15 year old."
"Or her mother?" I pressed.
"Nah man, but look, uh I gotta go file some paperwork", he said nervously. He hung up.
That was just strange. I thought about calling Ashley or Tasia but thought better of it. I knew exactly who I had to talk to. I had to go to DSCC and speak to Kisha herself.
{to be continued}
Chapter 6
“Sometimes you have to choose between a bunch of wrong choices and no right ones. You just have to choose which wrong choices feels the least wrong.”
-Charlene Hoover
Pregnant? My breath caught and my mouth dried up. I could faintly hear Stamp talking to me…
“You are breathing too fast, you’re about to hyperventilate and I don’t want you to pass out. Concentrate only on breathing through your nose and out of your mouth slowly. Concentrate only on breathing, nothing else. In, out…in, out. That’s right, breathe baby.”
I did as I was asked. Her hand on my back soothed me. Her and Stacy helped me sit down.
“So.. I’m…..pregnant?” I’m not even 16 yet. How could this happen? Pop made sure his people brought all the necessary equipment before they even saw me. The last thing he was prepared to deal with was the risk of me getting pregnant.
My mind raced back to one isolated incident. Stood out in my mind very clearly.
“Do you know who the father is?” Stacy brought me back to the present.
“No,” I said. Yes, I thought.
“You need to eat,” said Stamp.
“I can’t…”
“You have to,” she said in a tone that told me it was final.
I didn’t even protest, I didn’t have the energy… I honestly didn’t even want to think about it. We went to the cafeteria and I scoffed down my food, just to please the watching eyes, not tasting a damn thing.
After dinner, we went back to Stamp’s office. She motioned me to have a seat. She saw my stricken face and frowned.
“It’s not the end of the world, you know.”
Still I said nothing.
“You, Amanda, and KeKe are the first ones we have that are pregnant. We are actually building a nursery as we speak for you guys. The babies will be taken care of while you are in tutoring. There are also a lot of government programs designed for you. We are going to get through this, we are going to help you, it’s going to be okay… I promise.”
More silence from me.
“There are other alternatives.” She sighed. “There’s adoption, abortio-“
“No!” I screamed. I gently caressed my stomach. I did not want this child. I would never want this child... but I refused to kill it.
Stamp smiled. “Look, just go to your room and get some sleep. I swear everything is going to be okay.”
I was tired. I had so much on my mind but I couldn’t fight sleep. I went back to the room where Amanda and KeKe were still up watching TV. They noticed the stricken look on my face and came straight over to where I was standing.
“I guess you pregnant after all,” said KeKe. “Listen, it’s not that bad, and this is a good place to be, they took me in after I didn’t have nobody. You’ll be okay, you will see.”
“Yeah,” said Amanda with a sympathic smile. “They good people here. Im not ready for a baby either but thanks to them, I have help.”
They reached in together and gave me a hug. Just like with Tasia and Ashley, I stiffened instantly. I don't know if I would ever be comfortable with people touching me. I wanted to cry, but I found out long ago that crying doesn't solve anything.
Amanda went to the closet and pulled a long nightgown out and passed it to me.
“Just take a shower and get some rest mami.”
Why were people being so nice to me? Is this what life was like outside of my bubble? I gratefully took the nightgown and took a long, hot, relaxing shower trying to wash away the days drama. I went to my designated bed and finally got some much needed sleep.
My sleep was restless and long. I tossed and turned all night, had nightmares, and woke up at about noon soaked in sweat to Stamp gently nudging me.
“Here, I brought you something to eat since you missed breakfast. Usually Stacy handles things like this but I’m letting her take care of the center for the day while I take care of YOU.”
I was starving so I gratefully accepted the French toast, bacon and fruit she gave me.
“You have a doctors appointment in about an hour so I’ll leave while you get dressed and ready to go.”
Fuck. The events of the previous day came crashing down, bringing me back to a sober reality. The food I was eating turned to bricks in my stomach and I pushed it away.
I ate my lunch and put on the outfit she gave me yesterday. I’ve never looked this nice. I combed my hair in a low ponytail, using some of KeKe’s gel that was in the bathroom. I didn’t even recognize myself. Stamp came back for me to take me to the doctor. We got to the parking lot and she pulled out a set of keys and remote started a black C-class coupe baby Benz.
“Impressive,” I mumbled under my breath. I got in and sank into the tan buttery leather seats. She hooked her iPod to the stereo and Erykah Badu came streaming through the speakers, relaxing my soul. We rode and in silence and I found myself thinking about Charles again. For once I thought someone could care about me but it was a setup. A façade.. just a nigga doing his job. But his eyes. His eyes made me abandon my inner resistance. Smiles on my face were so few and far between that him making me laugh stood out vividly in my mind. The sight of him was overwhelming to me, magical even. The sound of his voice resonated in my mind, making me shiver. I’ve never felt like this. Weird how he stirs my souls this way over seeing him only twice in my whole life. Even while knowing he was just there on a case I couldn’t help daydreaming that I was in this Benz with him, on our way to see a doctor about our baby. Our baby with eyes like his and dimples that twinkled. Then reality once again sank in. This wasn’t his baby, and he never really cared. I’d probably never see him again.
We arrived at the doctors office and filled out all the necessary paper work. The doctor performed an ultrasound and let me hear the rapid heartbeat of my baby. I was amazed, the pitter-patter of my baby’s little heart made everything all too real for me. If I was capable of love, this was the feeling. 16 and pregnant. According to the doctors measurements, he estimated the fetus to be about 9 weeks old. Made perfect sense to me. This only confirmed what I already knew about it's paternity. The doctor was nice and printed out a picture of my little blob for me to keep. I couldn’t make heads or tails of it but I just kept staring.
“So how do you feel?” asked Stamp as we were leaving the doctors office.
“I don’t know.. like I can’t take care of it,” I mumbled. "And honestly, I don't want to. I want it to have a good family. I don't know who or how, but that's what I want"
“Don’t worry about that, we are here to help. Kisha you have a great future ahead of you whether you believe it or not. What do you want to be when you get older?”
“You,” I blurted out honestly. “I want to help people. I want to help kids like me.” I paused. "I want a Benz"
Laughter tumbled from her mouth and I felt embarrassed. Hell, I was serious.
“Well,” she started, clearly surprised by my answer, “I am flattered! Wow.. well it takes hard work and a level of compassion to go into the field of social work but I will do everything in my power to see you succeed, as I will all of the rest of my girls. We will get you started on GED prep classes tomorrow and in a few months we can start looking at colleges.”
College? Me? Did she know who the fuck she was talking to? Now it was my turn to laugh.
She shot me the side-eye but I guess she let it slide because she changed the subject.
“Now it’s time for some fun, let’s go shopping!” She flashed me a megawatt smile. I couldn’t help but laugh, she was so excited. I had never been shopping so I didn’t see what the appeal was. Clothes were just clothes, and mine were never new. We drove to the mall and lived it up at the expense of my stipend and Stamp’s Mastercard. I tried on clothes and shoes, modeling them, having a great time. We went from store to store buying dresses and jeans, shirts and shoes, bras, you name it. I knew nothing about fashion so she picked out the majority of my clothes and I had a ball modelling them. Pretty soon I knew I’d be too big for most of this stuff but hell she was buying and I wasn’t about to protest.
“Uh… Stamp?” I was nervous about even asking this.
“Yeah whatup,” all of her professionalism out the window. Whatup?
“I’m having a good time..." I said. I wanted her to know. My parents used to take me shopping in another lifetime and I had forgotten how fun it can actually be.
She smiled and pulled out her phone to call someone. I tuned out her conversation and tried to think. But my mind was racing.
“Detective Ashley and Detective Tasia are on the way. They have more questions for you, I thought it would be best if they came here instead of DSCC”
I gave a half-smile. I was so rude to them the last time. I was sort of excited though. I hadn’t had this much fun since… never. We went to the hair salon and got my hair washed, conditioned, cut and flat-ironed. Stamp got her fade tapered.
“Well, well, well! Look at you!!,” I heard Ashley exclaim from behind me. Her and Tasia rushed me for a hug. I couldn’t even say anything. I was still leery of these two. The four of us headed straight to the nail shop for pedicures and “girl talk” as Tasia put it. We were sitting in the chairs laughing and talking like old friends. They were telling me stories about their younger days. Then all of the sudden the tone got serious when Ashley asked me if I knew who the father was.
“Ashley!” Stamp exclaimed at the exact same time I said “Yes.”
Stamp looked at me in shock. “I thought-"
“I know,” I said. I took a deep breath and at that moment I put two and two together. Something clicked that I hadn’t thought of before.
“Char… Detective Charles knows him. His condom was the only one that ever broke and the time matches up.” They looked at me incredulously as I explained. “When Charles came the first time, he told me who sent him. Said it was some dude he went to school with. White kid. Pretty nice guy, actually.”
“Oh my God,” said Ashley and Tasia in unison. The look of pure shock on their faces.
Stamp and I were confused. She was the first to speak.
"What?"
Ok this was getting worrisome as the seconds of silence passed. Between Ashley and Tasia with that dumbfounded look on their faces to Stamp with her mouth gaping open I needed to know what the hell was going on....
"WHAT??" Stamp repeated.
Tasia took a deep breath. "What makes you sure it was him?" she said, ignoring Stamp.
"Well... Pop always made sure they had condoms to prevent STDs and.... babies. Well anyway, there was this white boy who thought he was too gotdamn much man for the itty bitty condom he needed so he wore a magnum that slipped off. We didn't notice till we were done. No name 23, red hair, kinda cute, drove an Eclipse."
"That's DEFINITELY him," said Tasia. She put her head in her lap.
Ya'll need to fill me in!" said Stamp angrily. "Who is he? Why is he important? And most of all, how ya'll know him!?"
The ladies doing our pedicures probably didn't know a lick of English but they looked hesitant about the way our tones were escalating. I shot mine a quick smile to ease the tension. I didnt give a fuck whose baby this was. Why did they care so much?
Ashley sighed. "It's a long story."
"Whatever Ash, give us the short version," said Stamp, calming down.
"His name is Andrew Wilkins," started Tasia.
"DETECTIVE Andrew Wilkins," Ashley said.
Ok, now I was interested. Did she say just detective?
{to be continued}
Chapter 7
“I think things that i shouldn't. I dream things that I shouldn't. I want
things that i shouldn't and it's all because of one thing-- I do care
about you.”
-H.M. Ward; Damaged
Me and Stamp looked at each other. The look on my face was stone cold rage. The look on Stamp's face was sympathetic.
Ashley went on. "He was the first over to investigate, and long story short, he took advantage of Kisha. He went once and filed his report which stated that there was nothing unusual going on over there. We just KNEW Denise was into prostitution so we sent Charles, who is only in training still, but looked young and graduated a year early at the top of his class. He's only 21 and something like a prodigy so we knew he'd get to the bottom of it.. so did Charles ever...?"
"Nope. He said he wanted me to take his virginity but then changed his mind and just wanted to talk. We just talked and laughed the whole time and he asked me a lot of personal ass questions but i just felt so... cool with him."
Ashley laughed. "His virginity? Matter of fact Charles mentioned he was coming to visit you in an hour for the investigation, I need to inform him of this before he comes"
Charles was coming. Charles will know. Charles was coming. I can't breathe.
"You ok, Kish?"
"I'm fine" I said louder than I intended to. She hit me the a side eyed look of confusion.
Charles was coming. Charles will know. Charles was coming. I can't breathe.
"You ok, Kish?"
"I'm fine" I said louder than I intended to. She hit me the a side eyed look of confusion.
She straightened up and said, "Kisha you are going through so much right now and.." tears welled up in her eyes "I just cant believe he did that. Excuse me a moment. She dried off her feet and walked out in those makeshift flip flops they give you. I let out a sigh. These were some emotional ass people.
We kind of sat there a minute.. getting our toes painted. All three of us chose red. I sat and thought to myself. And they let me think. They were taking this harder than me. I was used to being used, abused, lied to, and mistreated. I could see my life changing and I could almost just barely see me one day being happy. Truly happy. I could do something I always wanted to do, get educated and learn something. I read Denise's stash of old romance novels but that's pretty much all the education I'd had since I was little.. since before I was pulled out of school. I almost let myself get excited about life but something usually goes wrong. I was just waiting for it.
After our toes were painted and paid for we met Ashley outside who off in the distance yelling in the phone. She saw us, ended her call and came over. "Tasia we gotta go. Sarge needs to talk to us."
We hugged (another damn hug) and went our separate ways. When we got in the car Stamp asked how I feel.
I shrugged. "I'm fine. Those two are just dramatic as fu- heck." We arrived back at the center and I went to my room with all my purchases where KeKe and Amanda seemed to be waiting for me.
"Girl I see you been out flossin," said KeKe. "Your hair is butta." I didn’t get out much to say the least, so slang was pretty much always lost on me. I shrugged.
"Right!" Amanda agreed. "She look like a whole new person!"
I was tired but they made me show them all my new clothes and shit. We chatted it up like we been knowing each other forever. Clearly, I liked having people my age to talk to. I told them my whole story, Denise, Pop, NN23, the whole shebang.. and they told me theirs. All this time I thought I was cursed, like I was the only one with a hard-knock life. Here Amanda was, pregnant by her uncle. I liked being around them because they just seemed so excited and happy all the time. We watched a Lifetime movie and chilled out until we fell asleep.
In the morning we were awakened early by Stacy knocking on the door. We all got showered and I threw on some of my new jeans, a baby tee, and some ballet flats. I swung my hair and was ready to go. We went to the cafeteria and ate breakfast where I met some of the other girls. They had a lot of questions and I was honest about my life since I didn't really give a damn what anyone thought. After breakfast, I took a test to determine where I was lacking in education. Reading with comprehension and writing turned out way above average, where my math, social studies, and science were all at least below a fifth grade level. I'm assuming that all of Denise's old tattered novels I always read strengthened my reading. The tutor, Mrs. Crabtree, reassured me that she could catch me up when she saw how discouraged I was. I was going to be learning with about 6 other girls, some worse off than me. After a few hours of class I was tired mentally but catching on fast. That was, until Stamp came to the class to talk to me. She got me out in the hallway and said I'd be having a visitor.
"In light of what happened yesterday, Detective Wilkins is being investigated. So go freshen up, Detective Charles will be here to see you at 2." She walked away, obviously ignoring the fact that my heart was now lodged in my throat.
Charles.
I went up to the room and saw Amanda in there laying on the bed.
"Girl, what are you doin here? No tutoring?" I asked.
"Nah I acted like I was sick, what's up with you?"
"Well, I got a visitor. Charles is coming to ask me about white boy."
Amanda jumped up. "THE Charles?" She asked excitedly. I laughed nervously.
"Go take a shower," She said. I eyed her suspiciously. "Now. Go. Use that pink body gel."
I took a shower and tried to relax a little. This Victoria's Secret body gel smelled so good, I didn't wanna get out. I had too, though, and the nervousness kicked back in. I came out with a towel over my head and one over my body and there was an outfit laid out over my bed and a blow dryer and flatiron plugged in at the vanity. Amanda was fishing through her make-up bag. I laughed so hard.
"Here this is the lotion that goes with that body gel. Put it on." I did as was told and scanned the outfit she had picked out for me. There were some low cut dark skinny jeans and a pretty, lacy shirt with alot of golds, greens, and browns in it. I put it on and admired myself in the mirror. Nice.
"Here, put these on, we wear about the same size shoes." She handed me some 4 inch dark green stilettos. Okay that's where I had to draw the line.
"Girl I aint wearing those! I never wore heels before!"
"Just try it" So I put them on and immediately crashed to the ground sending us in a fit of laughter. She sighed and gave me some brown ballet flats. "Alright, sit in the chair."
I thought about Charles as she blowdried, flat ironed, pulled and tugged at my long hair. There was something about him. What was it about HIM that made me so nervous? He would never be friends with someone as young as me. He lied to me about every single thing but he saved me. My emotions were conflicted.. he acted like he really wanted to get to know me that day. But it was a lie and he was doing his job. Still..
"Finished!" Amanda interrupted my thoughts. I looked in the mirror. She had my hair in a messy ponytail with wisps of hair around my face and neckline. It was messy, as I said, yet perfect at the same time. She spent about 30 minutes but the appeal of the style looked effortless.. and beautiful. She threw me on some lipgloss, eyeliner, and eyeshadow. Then she handed me a pair of her huge gold hoops. I looked like a star. I honestly had never seen myself look so... great.
"Girl Charles is gon be shocked to see you today!"
I just grinned, admiring myself. "Thank you Amanda.. for everything."
"Hey dont mention it," she was saying as Stacy waltzed herself in and let out a cat call making us laugh.
"Well, he's here. Just be honest," said Stacy. She tightly held my hand and walked me to an empty classroom where Charles sat with a clipboard carefully reading some paperwork. When he finally looked up at me, his jaw literally dropped.
Talk about awkward. This nigga was staring at me like I was his last meal. I nervously fidgeted with this tight ass shirt Amanda had me wear, tugging it down. He stared some more, obviously inviting me to sit down wasn't part of the plan. I checked my nervousness and sat down matching his stare with my signature glare until he looked away.
"Hello Lakisha..."
"What's up, virgin boy trick turned detective," I spat back.
"So um.. I take it you're still mad at me about lying. I was just doing my job. I'm sorry."
I waved my hand dismissively. "On with it, what you here for, I got shit to do."
"Well I'm here to talk about Wilkins, tell me what happened." He got his little clipboard and pen ready.
"What's to tell? He came, he fucked. Then he left 100 bucks and a baby. No big deal, I was just doing my job."
Charles looked completely flustered and let out a deep sigh. He put his pen and clipboard down. Those beautiful eyes I had burned in my memory looked so tired.
"Ok, forget the investigation for a moment, how do you feel?"
"I feel amazing. Ain't life grand?" I said sarcastically. He rolled his eyes.
"So what are you doing with the baby? Have you chose adoption or abortion?" Huh? Abortion? Adoption?
"Actually DETECTIVE, I'm keeping my baby." I have no idea what made me say that. There was no way in hell I was keeping Wilkins spawn to raise alone.
"You're WHAT! But, but why? Wilkins took advantage of you! Why would you want his baby! Don't you hate him for he did?" he shouted angrily at me.
"Geez, calm your nuts dude. I DON’T want to keep his baby, I want to keep my baby," I smiled and continued. "No, I don't hate him for what he did. But you seem to! WHY"
"Because, well.. he took advantage of you and advantage of his position of the law. You act like you don't even care. He should pay for what he did!"
I laughed. "He did pay.. $100 bucks." I chuckled some more at my own joke making Charles angrier. "Look, he came for what many motherfuckers came for. So he lied about bein a cop, big fuckin deal, so did you. Of all the men that came for my services, he left me something far more precious than any of them have, including you. You cant get me to hate him, and I'm sorry you think I should."
"You have to press charges against him..."
"I have to do no such thing.. and I wont. He screwed a prostitute, he didn’t rape me, didn’t know my age, and I don't see why you’re so worked up. May as well put that pen down cause I ain’t makin no statement."
"Fine, you don't have to. You're still under-aged, the state will prosecute him."
I shrugged. Well I haven't given you anything about Wilkins so for all you know, this aint his baby and I aint fuck him. Now if you really wanna do your job, help me prosecute my asshole father."
Charles turned beet red and mumbled something under his breath about me stubborn.
"I cant believe you Lakisha! How can you take care of this baby on your own! You’re so young.." his voice trailed off, "just so so young...."
Fine as he was, I was getting tired of this conversation. And hungry. "Why do you care?" I asked quietly.
"Because I... care about you." he mumbled, avoiding my signature probing eyes.
"What?" Not sure I heard right.
"I said because its my job." He said louder this time.
"Well I gotta go, I'm tired."
"Believe me this conversation is far from over."
"Whatever," I watched him gather his things and leave the room.
I sat in the room in silence for about 5 minutes, reflecting on our conversation."
"I care about you too, Charles," I whispered into the silent air.
{to be continued}
"Innocence Lost" will be updated every Friday. I am open to new topics and suggestions, just email them to me IlluminegroXM@gmail.com Chapter 8
“There are wounds that never show on the body that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds.”
- Laurell K. Hamilton
- Laurell K. Hamilton
Charles P.O.V.
Coming back from seeing Kisha, I was fuming. I was angry at Wilkins, angry at Kisha's pathetic ass parents, and surprisingly at Kisha herself. She was cute, but sooo stubborn.... Wait, cute? Well I could admit she was cute, especially her deep set eyes and full lips. She had a few little blemishes but her Hershey skin was still beautiful. I felt like a creep just thinking about it, but the girl had body for days. What was I thinking! She's 16 for Christ's sake. there was just about this girl that sucked me in. Her smart ass mouth and quick wit, maybe? Anyway, she's young. My mind was so zoned out that I realized I was doing 90 on the freeway. I started raging again. How could she not be mad at Wilkins? He raped and impregnated her! Statutory rape was still rape. I pulled up my house to see Carter's fully loaded Mustang already parked. Usually, I loved seeing Carter, but today I didn't feel like being bothered. I just wanted to be alone with my thoughts. I walked in the house to see her sitting on the couch watching Bad Girls Club and oiling her legs. the girl was forever pampering herself Looking good was like a second job for Carter. I smiled at her beautiful self and tried to walk to the bathroom unbothered.
"Hey babe! You look tense", she chirped. Shit. So much for avoiding conversation.
"Well...", I thought about if I should tell her it was work related. The thing was, she pretty much hated my career choice. For a while, I thought it was because of police work being so dangerous. However, during some silly argument we had, she muttered something about my "sorry assed income potential" revealing the true reason for her disdain. At the time I felt a bit spirit broken when I found out how she really felt but I quickly got over it when she batted her gorgeous eyes and apologized because I loved her so much. My job is meaningful and important. I am helping people, and I enjoy my work. I also made enough to live comfortably and buy her the expensive pieces of jewelery and treat her to fancy restaurants. I certainly never heard her complain about that.
"Well what?", she snapped me out of my thoughts.
"Ok, so at work tod-"
"You should seriously think about quitting that little job", she interrupted. I sighed. Here we go again. "I'm just saying, you're always stressed, it's dangerous, and the money is not worth the risk. I'm just thinking about our future. I want to get married and have kids soon; you need to consider going to law school like we talked about." Like she talked about.
I cut my eyes at her. Future? Family? Carter knew good and well that she would rather cut her own uterus out and feed it to Hannibal Lecter than ruin her body giving birth to a child. She took note of my peeved expression and decided to drop it.
"So what happened at work"
"This girl... Kisha", I sighed. "She's 16 and has been pimped out by her parents since she was little. Well, we removed her from the house, and come to find out, one of my stupid ass colleagues has gotten her-"
"I don't get it."
"What don't you get Carter?" My patience was approaching an all time low.
"She wasn't held captive right?"
"No, but-"
"She coulda left at any time right?", she quizzed. Where was she going with this?
"So she must have liked it to some degree, then," Carter said with a look of disgust on her face. My mouth dropped open as I instantly became enraged.
"You know what? You can be ignorant as FUCK sometimes! You've been so spoiled and sheltered by your rich daaaaaddy so much that you're completely clueless about the real world!," I fumed. I gathered my keys and stormed out the house to take a drive.
She followed me out, screaming as I got into my car. "What does my father have to do with anything! And you don't even know the girl so why do you care so much!"
Why did I care so much?
Kisha P.O.V
I had been at the center a little over a week and I was overwhelmed with depression. I knew I had to start tutoring soon but for for the time being I rarely left the room. KeKe and Amanda tried everything to get me out my isolation, which was nice of them but I wasn't having any of it. I liked to pretend I wasn't pregnant and pushed that away from my mind, never speaking of it. Ashley and Tasia came to visit again but I wasn't in the mood. I sent Stamp away several times, pretending I had a stomach ache, headache, anything. I thought about the Wilkins guy, and felt bad about the situation. It didn't seem right to me that he would be charged with rape, when I was the one who had lied about my age. I was racked with guilt and felt I was ruining this guys life. I thought about my parents a lot. I didn't miss either of them and didn't care if I ever saw them again but still wondering how they were for some reason. I thought about Charles and how angry I made him.. still couldn't figure why he was so mad. Keke and Amanda walked in with my lunch. They were really proving to be my friends, something I never had. Amanda waddled her huge pregnant self over to me and handed me an envelope. I peeked inside and saw some cash. Must be my stipend.
"We're going shopping" KeKe said from behind her.
"Well.... have fun", I told them.
"Um no ma'am, your coming too"
"Nah, but I promise I'll come next time." I smiled. They were really trying.
"No. Come on" Keke came over and started pulling on my arms.
"Ok, Ok. Girl, dang. That shit hurt." I might as well get out of this room. Might do me some good.
I put on some jeans and a t-shirt and we left the room. I walked down the steps with the rest of the pregnant squad past the judging eyes of the other girls that lived there.
"Can't stand these bitches," muttered Amanda.
We walked to the mall and I listened to them talked about shit that I was entirely clueless about. Facebook, Beyonce, boyfriends... I felt like an alien listening to their conversation.
We reached the mall and KeKe dragged us into Forever 21. Amanda and I let her have at it since she was thousands of months pregnant and couldn't fit anything in there and I was simply uninterested. While KeKe excitedly tried on clothes, I made small talk with Amanda which I was getting better at. I could relate to them so well because their lives were just as fucked up as mine was.
"You know," she said, " I can't squeeze my pinky finger into any of this shit but you should probably get a few things. You won't be showing for awhile and you might as well look cute until then."
Honestly I didn't know the first thing about fashion or clothes and "looking cute" was pretty much an impossibility for me. She was so nice to me that I just didn't want to disappoint her.
"Fine, if you help me pick out some things, I'll buy them." Amanda's face lit up and she waddled over to KeKe who was busy rummaging through the clearance racks. I chuckled to myself as they beamed at each other. All of a sudden, this shopping trip became about me. I picked at my nails while they held clothes up against my body, begging me to try things on. I tried a couple of dresses on and the cheap spandex material fit my body like a glove. I knew I had a shape like the women in the music videos they so loved to watch but it was weird seeing it accentuated like that. I still drew the line at high heels though, opting for pretty bejeweled sandals. I bought everything they picked out for me, knowing good and well I had no occasion to wear this shit. Whatever, it made them happy. After we left Forever 21, we stopped at a frozen yogurt booth and enjoyed some sweets. I was actually having a bit of fun for once.
KeKe, who was a sneaker fiend led us into Foot Locker to buy the latest Air Jordan sneakers. It still amazed me what kids my age were into. As she tried on her shoes, I walked around the store admiring all of the pretty pairs of sneakers on display. I picked up a Nike and quickly put it back when I saw the price. I had never owned a new pair of sneakers that I could remember and was appalled at the $89 price tag. "Ridiculous" I muttered to myself. I heard a deep voice saying something from behind me but I was so busy thinking of all the shit I could buy with 90 dollars that I didn't quite hear. I whipped around to see a tall boy of about 18 or 19 with shoulder length locks, a faint mustache, and a pecan brown baby face. He was no Charles but he was most definitely extremely cute.
"I was asking if you needed any help?" he asked with a Hollywood smile.
"No." Wow.. I really needed to work on my social skills. He scrunched up his handsome face. "I mean, I'm just looking around, I don't really wear sneakers," I tried to redeem my rudeness.
"Well... you do know this is a sneaker store right?" he asked, grinning.
"I'm here with some... friends," I gestured over to Amanda and KeKe who were smiling and heading over. Oh God.
"So who's this?" questioned Amanda.
"Uhhh..."
"My name is Hakeem," he said holding out his hand for her to shake.
"Well, I'm Amanda, this is KeKe, and I see you've already met Kisha."
He turned to me. "Kisha, huh? So, since you aren't into sneakers, do you see anything else you like?"
"I guess I could use some socks," I mumbled. He was making me so nervous. Why was he standing so close to me?
They all busted out laughing. "Socks?" KeKe asked during her fit of laughter. I wasn't the embarrassed type but I felt a little humiliated.
"So how old are you miss Kisha?" Hakeem asked.
"16"
"I'm 17. So you got a man?"
"Well.."
"Nope! She single as can be!" exclaimed Amanda's loud ass.
He laughed and turned his attention back to me. "Really? Fine as you are? So can I call you sometime?"
"No phone... I ain't got no phone," I muttered.
"Maaaan, it's a phone in the room silly," said KeKe. There was? "Here Hakeem, take this number and make sure you call her ass."
Hakeem took out his fancy all touch phone and programmed the number KeKe rambled off to him. "I'll be calling you soon sweetie," he winked and walked away to help some annoyed waiting customers.
We walked out of the store to head back to the center and as soon as he was out of earshot, they couldn't stop talking about how "fooooine" Hakeem was and how I better stop acting so clueless around boys. I smiled to myself and had to admit that I was excited about his call. I couldn't believe how much my life was changing. Then I remembered the baby. Shit.
"Hey babe! You look tense", she chirped. Shit. So much for avoiding conversation.
"Well...", I thought about if I should tell her it was work related. The thing was, she pretty much hated my career choice. For a while, I thought it was because of police work being so dangerous. However, during some silly argument we had, she muttered something about my "sorry assed income potential" revealing the true reason for her disdain. At the time I felt a bit spirit broken when I found out how she really felt but I quickly got over it when she batted her gorgeous eyes and apologized because I loved her so much. My job is meaningful and important. I am helping people, and I enjoy my work. I also made enough to live comfortably and buy her the expensive pieces of jewelery and treat her to fancy restaurants. I certainly never heard her complain about that.
"Well what?", she snapped me out of my thoughts.
"Ok, so at work tod-"
"You should seriously think about quitting that little job", she interrupted. I sighed. Here we go again. "I'm just saying, you're always stressed, it's dangerous, and the money is not worth the risk. I'm just thinking about our future. I want to get married and have kids soon; you need to consider going to law school like we talked about." Like she talked about.
I cut my eyes at her. Future? Family? Carter knew good and well that she would rather cut her own uterus out and feed it to Hannibal Lecter than ruin her body giving birth to a child. She took note of my peeved expression and decided to drop it.
"So what happened at work"
"This girl... Kisha", I sighed. "She's 16 and has been pimped out by her parents since she was little. Well, we removed her from the house, and come to find out, one of my stupid ass colleagues has gotten her-"
"I don't get it."
"What don't you get Carter?" My patience was approaching an all time low.
"She wasn't held captive right?"
"No, but-"
"She coulda left at any time right?", she quizzed. Where was she going with this?
"So she must have liked it to some degree, then," Carter said with a look of disgust on her face. My mouth dropped open as I instantly became enraged.
"You know what? You can be ignorant as FUCK sometimes! You've been so spoiled and sheltered by your rich daaaaaddy so much that you're completely clueless about the real world!," I fumed. I gathered my keys and stormed out the house to take a drive.
She followed me out, screaming as I got into my car. "What does my father have to do with anything! And you don't even know the girl so why do you care so much!"
Why did I care so much?
Kisha P.O.V
I had been at the center a little over a week and I was overwhelmed with depression. I knew I had to start tutoring soon but for for the time being I rarely left the room. KeKe and Amanda tried everything to get me out my isolation, which was nice of them but I wasn't having any of it. I liked to pretend I wasn't pregnant and pushed that away from my mind, never speaking of it. Ashley and Tasia came to visit again but I wasn't in the mood. I sent Stamp away several times, pretending I had a stomach ache, headache, anything. I thought about the Wilkins guy, and felt bad about the situation. It didn't seem right to me that he would be charged with rape, when I was the one who had lied about my age. I was racked with guilt and felt I was ruining this guys life. I thought about my parents a lot. I didn't miss either of them and didn't care if I ever saw them again but still wondering how they were for some reason. I thought about Charles and how angry I made him.. still couldn't figure why he was so mad. Keke and Amanda walked in with my lunch. They were really proving to be my friends, something I never had. Amanda waddled her huge pregnant self over to me and handed me an envelope. I peeked inside and saw some cash. Must be my stipend.
"We're going shopping" KeKe said from behind her.
"Well.... have fun", I told them.
"Um no ma'am, your coming too"
"Nah, but I promise I'll come next time." I smiled. They were really trying.
"No. Come on" Keke came over and started pulling on my arms.
"Ok, Ok. Girl, dang. That shit hurt." I might as well get out of this room. Might do me some good.
I put on some jeans and a t-shirt and we left the room. I walked down the steps with the rest of the pregnant squad past the judging eyes of the other girls that lived there.
"Can't stand these bitches," muttered Amanda.
We walked to the mall and I listened to them talked about shit that I was entirely clueless about. Facebook, Beyonce, boyfriends... I felt like an alien listening to their conversation.
We reached the mall and KeKe dragged us into Forever 21. Amanda and I let her have at it since she was thousands of months pregnant and couldn't fit anything in there and I was simply uninterested. While KeKe excitedly tried on clothes, I made small talk with Amanda which I was getting better at. I could relate to them so well because their lives were just as fucked up as mine was.
"You know," she said, " I can't squeeze my pinky finger into any of this shit but you should probably get a few things. You won't be showing for awhile and you might as well look cute until then."
Honestly I didn't know the first thing about fashion or clothes and "looking cute" was pretty much an impossibility for me. She was so nice to me that I just didn't want to disappoint her.
"Fine, if you help me pick out some things, I'll buy them." Amanda's face lit up and she waddled over to KeKe who was busy rummaging through the clearance racks. I chuckled to myself as they beamed at each other. All of a sudden, this shopping trip became about me. I picked at my nails while they held clothes up against my body, begging me to try things on. I tried a couple of dresses on and the cheap spandex material fit my body like a glove. I knew I had a shape like the women in the music videos they so loved to watch but it was weird seeing it accentuated like that. I still drew the line at high heels though, opting for pretty bejeweled sandals. I bought everything they picked out for me, knowing good and well I had no occasion to wear this shit. Whatever, it made them happy. After we left Forever 21, we stopped at a frozen yogurt booth and enjoyed some sweets. I was actually having a bit of fun for once.
KeKe, who was a sneaker fiend led us into Foot Locker to buy the latest Air Jordan sneakers. It still amazed me what kids my age were into. As she tried on her shoes, I walked around the store admiring all of the pretty pairs of sneakers on display. I picked up a Nike and quickly put it back when I saw the price. I had never owned a new pair of sneakers that I could remember and was appalled at the $89 price tag. "Ridiculous" I muttered to myself. I heard a deep voice saying something from behind me but I was so busy thinking of all the shit I could buy with 90 dollars that I didn't quite hear. I whipped around to see a tall boy of about 18 or 19 with shoulder length locks, a faint mustache, and a pecan brown baby face. He was no Charles but he was most definitely extremely cute.
"I was asking if you needed any help?" he asked with a Hollywood smile.
"No." Wow.. I really needed to work on my social skills. He scrunched up his handsome face. "I mean, I'm just looking around, I don't really wear sneakers," I tried to redeem my rudeness.
"Well... you do know this is a sneaker store right?" he asked, grinning.
"I'm here with some... friends," I gestured over to Amanda and KeKe who were smiling and heading over. Oh God.
"So who's this?" questioned Amanda.
"Uhhh..."
"My name is Hakeem," he said holding out his hand for her to shake.
"Well, I'm Amanda, this is KeKe, and I see you've already met Kisha."
He turned to me. "Kisha, huh? So, since you aren't into sneakers, do you see anything else you like?"
"I guess I could use some socks," I mumbled. He was making me so nervous. Why was he standing so close to me?
They all busted out laughing. "Socks?" KeKe asked during her fit of laughter. I wasn't the embarrassed type but I felt a little humiliated.
"So how old are you miss Kisha?" Hakeem asked.
"16"
"I'm 17. So you got a man?"
"Well.."
"Nope! She single as can be!" exclaimed Amanda's loud ass.
He laughed and turned his attention back to me. "Really? Fine as you are? So can I call you sometime?"
"No phone... I ain't got no phone," I muttered.
"Maaaan, it's a phone in the room silly," said KeKe. There was? "Here Hakeem, take this number and make sure you call her ass."
Hakeem took out his fancy all touch phone and programmed the number KeKe rambled off to him. "I'll be calling you soon sweetie," he winked and walked away to help some annoyed waiting customers.
We walked out of the store to head back to the center and as soon as he was out of earshot, they couldn't stop talking about how "fooooine" Hakeem was and how I better stop acting so clueless around boys. I smiled to myself and had to admit that I was excited about his call. I couldn't believe how much my life was changing. Then I remembered the baby. Shit.
A few days after meeting Hakeem, he still hadn't called and I went back my GED tutoring 3 days a week with that rickety old white lady named Mrs. Crabtree. All the girls called her Miss Crabby becasue of her no-nonsense approach to teaching. She was constantly bitching. "Why are you late?" "You aren't paying attention!" "LAKISHA!" S he was right, I was always late, and I never paid attention. I had so much other shit to think about. She largely gave me a hard time but really tried to get through to me, much like everyone else at the DSCC. This shit was boring and confusing, and I just wasn't making it easy for her to teach me. I did feel bad, but I had too much going on. Not only had Hakeem not called, but Ashley, Tasia, nor Charles had come to see me about any updates on my parents cases. Stamp was always busy, running around doing this this or that. I spent most of my time with Amanda and Keke. We were extremely close by now and the other girls in the center basically ignored us, and we ignored them. I wasn't nice or mean to any of the other girls and vice-versa but I stayed out of the way.
I looked blankly at her. She sighed, "Meaning the more you don't listen, the longer you'll have to be in here." Well, that had my attention. If I tried to learn something, I could finally stop this torture fest? She saw the realization dawn on my face and smiled as much as her dentures would allow. That was all her ass had to say to begin with. I was about to become the model student. The other 6 girls were even more uninterested in the tutoring session than me but I was always picked on and singled out by Crabs, giving them something to snicker about. "Lakishaaa" I snapped out of my daydreaming again to look around and see that I was the only student left in the room. We'd been dismissed. I quickly picked up my notebook and fled to my room, where I was hoping to catch a nap. I slung open the door, expecting to see Amanda and Keke watching talk shows and eating candy. I got my mouth all set to tell them how much Crab Ass was riding me all day but my breath caught when I realized they weren't in the room. My eyes darted across the room to see Stamp standing by the window looking out of it; Ashley punching something into her phone sitting on my bed; Tasia sitting next to her looking at me with red eyes; and when I looked to my left I saw Charles. Standing very close, smelling woodsy and staring into my soul as our eyes met. What the hell was going on?
I laid down my notebook and pencil, calmly walked past them and sat on Amanda's bed. Never let 'em see you sweat. I glanced at Stamp. "Where they at?"
"They went to the movies," she replied, knowing already that I was referring to my roommates. "I sent them so we could talk."
I blinked. No one said anything. Not a thing. Not a hi, bye, kiss my ass, or nothing. The silence was deafening.
I cleared my throat. "This is amazing, we should do this more often," I said sarcastically. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Charles give a half-smile. But it vanished as quickly as it came.
"Your mother.." Ashley started. "Your mother ummm..." I looked at my wrist as if there was a watch there. This was getting ridiculous. I was beyond sleepy so I let out a big ass bear yawn.
"My mother what? Please, continue," I said dryly. They all looked at each other. I was only half-interested in whatever shenanigans my mother was up to but I was becoming impatient and wished they would just spit it out.
"She's dead," Tasia blurted out and squeezed her eyes shut. "Your mother killed herself."
"She hung herself. In her cell," Ashley continued for her. Charles said nothing.
On the outside, I was calm. Like always. On the inside, the dam burst on several of my emotions. My mind was reeling from the news.
They all looked at me confused, waiting for a reaction. I know most people in this situation would be grieving over their lost mother, but I had done that years ago.
PART 2 (of 3) DROPPING MAY 22 2015
Authors note: Listen, I'm very aware of numerous spelling errors, grammatical errors, and font uniformity issues. I will be addressing these as soon as possible. I have 2 jobs, and a husband and family so it takes me a while to get to things. All in all, thank you everyone so much for your support.
