Agents of Literary Change
Too Much Untold (Four Friends) Let me know what ya think!
Chapter One: “Meet the girls.”
Ari Marie Jennings
Oh my goodness, could traffic be anymore slower I thought as I drove home from
work; looking in the rearview mirror at my long jet black hair that was in need of
washing. I hated this drive from work everyday. Even though I only lived 20 minutes
from work, it took forever just to get home but that’s how it was in Atlanta. There was
traffic every where. It seemed like I lived in this car. But I couldn’t complain. This time
last year, I was catching a bus to work and school.
Things didn’t come easy for me. I had to work my butt off just to live
comfortable. I worked a fulltime job at Castro’s; a rich girls clothing store. I went to
college part time for nursing and I still lived at home with my mom. Ain’t that some
mess?
My struggle all started the day I was born, 24 years ago on May 1st. But even
before I was born, it was hard for my mom to make ends meet. I mean it was easier then
because all she had was herself. But even before me, she never lived a fabulous life. She
had to work and grind to get by. From what she told me, she lived in the streets. Dated a
lot of guys and partied. She was a dancer at a night club. It was fast and easy money.
Three years into the job, she met my dad. She was with a lot of men and didn’t find out
who my dad was until I was older but when I came along, I motivated her to do right. She
changed everything but her drinking. That was one habit she wasn’t about to break.
Through out the years, we struggled. Bills were sometimes paid late. Sometimes we
didn’t have food to eat. I’d wake up in the middle of the night hearing my mom praying.
“Lord, please give me the ability to take care of my baby. She don’t deserve this. Lord, I
don’t know what I’m gonna do this time.”
Nights like that I knew things were pretty bad. My mom wasn’t a church going woman
but when she needed to pray, she knew how. Time didn’t make things better either. We
continued to struggle. At times I was ashamed to bring people to my house. Once I got
old enough, my mom broke things some what down to me. Why we struggled, and how
things got like this. I asked a lot of questions especially about my dad. She told me he
was tall and brown skinned; just like me and I had his high cheek bones. But she made
sure to tell me that the only good thing that came out of that relationship was me. With
that being said, I left it alone.
So all through school, I worked hard. A’s and B’s. I wanted to be different and I
didn’t want to live the life my mom did. As a little girl, I had a dream of being an Artist.
When most girls were playing with dolls, I played with my crayons and drew everywhere
I could. Going to Art School has always been a dream of mine. So my senior year in
high school, I decided I wanted to go to the Art Institute in San Diego. I wanted to move
out there and get out of Atlanta. But my mom’s drinking problem got worse. So I just
stayed here with her. I was all she had and I couldn’t leave her. By the time I got ready to
sign up for classes at the Art institute of Atlanta, classes were full. So was the next
semester and I had no choice but to do something different. I couldn’t wait on art school.
So I put my dream a side. Went to school for nursing and worked to pay for school. Life
is hard for me but I am determined to make it.
Marissa Carmen Johnson
“Cyra, Camille, ya’ll better hurry up. Daddy’s on his way.” I screamed at me 9
year old twin sisters.
It was Thursday and they always spent Thursday evening with our dad. Our parents were
divorced; married for 16 years. I was about 13 when they first separated. It didn’t bother
me. I was too busy trying to be grown and get out of the house. One minute they were
married and then one morning daddy was moving out. They never gave me a real reason
to why they divorced. I never really asked.
I did what I had to do for my sisters though. I felt like I was obligated to. Now
I’m not saying my mom was a bad mother. She loved us very much. I think she just got
tired after a while. But I took over what she didn’t do and I didn’t complain. When I got
my first car at 16, I drove my sisters to school sometimes; took them to their friends’
house. My dad gave me some money on the side and told me to get my sisters what they
needed. Most of the time, they called on me for homework or issues in school. I was a
mom and wasn’t even out of high school yet.
When I turned 15, we had a major crisis happen in our family. My parents wanted
me to live the best life possible so my mom and I moved to Decatur from Marietta to start
a new life. When I hit 16, I didn’t go to parties and didn’t do what most teenagers do. I
worked and went to school. All my life I wanted to be a dentist, so I made sure I kept my
grades up that way I would be accepted into a good college. My parents had the money to
send me to a really good college but I just felt like I owed them my life so I always did
my best.
My life revolved around my sisters and still does now that I’m 24. I love them so
much though and I wouldn’t have it any other way. But I was very over protective of
them. I just wanted them to have a better life than me.
My mom acted like she was too busy on Thursday’s to be here when my dad
picked my sisters up. So I came over. It gave me a chance to see my dad anyway.
“Cam…….”
“Dag we right here.” My sister Camille said as she ran down the stairs with her curly hair
flowing behind her. Camille and Cyra were identical twins. Both very light skinned with
two freckles under their left eye. The only difference was Cyra had short curly hair and
Camille had long curly hair. They lived with my mom in the 4 bedroom house that I spent
my teenage years in. You would think it was my dad’s house since he paid all the bills in
the house just so my mom could live comfortably.
“Ya’ll take forever to do nothing.” I answered back.
“Whatever.”
“Where’s your sister?”
“Upstairs getting her stuff.” Camille answered digging in her purse for gum. She was so
girly.
“Look there’s Daddy, go get her.” I said getting irritated because they were so difficult.
“Aw man…..You go get her. I’m tired of chasing her.” Camille said whining.
“Well you shoulda brought her down here with you now go!” I went to answer the door.
“Hey Daddy.”
“Girl you still growing.” He said as if it’s been years since he last saw me. My dad was
6’2. I looked just like him but I sure didn’t have his height. I was only 5’7. He was a laid
back kinda man who was in love with his family. But now he’s turned into a ladies man;
dressed real nice all the time and was very smooth like he had no worries in the world.
Always kept his face clean and his hair cut low. My daddy was very handsome too and
enjoyed everything about life. But the minute he got around his daughters, it was all
about us.
“No Daddy, you just getting old.” I replied as we hugged.
“Uh huh….So where’s your sister’s?”
“Upstairs; taken all day.”
“How’s your Mama?” He asked.
“Alright I guess.”
“Hey Daddy!” Cyra screamed. Cyra was the opposite of Camille. Nothing about her was
girly and she wouldn’t be caught dead wearing a purse. She wanted her hair cut last
summer because she thought it was too much to handle. Camille on the other hand, loved
her long hair.
“Hey there’s my girls. Ya’ll ready?” My dad asked.
“Yup.”
“I’m ready.” As they were getting into the car, I thought about my sister’s. They were
such daddy’s girls. I loved them so much; just as if they were mine. But my thoughts
were interrupted by my phone. It was none other than my mom. Before I answered I
looked up to see if they were gone yet but my dad must have heard my phone ring and
saw the expression on my face. He knew who it was without me even telling him.
Shaine “Heaven” Berlin
Where was my Gucci skirt? If I was gonna look fly today, I had to be wearing that
skirt. But who am I kidding; I look good in anything I wear. Today was John’s lucky day.
After 2 months of begging me to go out with him, I finally told him yes earlier this week
at school. What the heck, I wasn’t doing anything today anyway.
“Heaven!” Mama Angie called.
“Yes!”
“Your Father would like to see you in his office.” She answered.
Heaven, you like that name huh? My mama said she gave me Heaven as my middle name
because I was so precious and nothing was more important than me. Mama Angie is my
childhood nanny. I got so used to her that she stayed around even when I was old enough
to take care of myself. She’s now one of the maids but I still spend a lot of time with her.
I was born in Malibu California. My parents are hella rich. My daddy is a
neurologist and my mom; well she’s just a housewife with three maids, a butler, a
doorman, two chefs and my nanny Mama Angie. When my mom got tired of being
“mom” I stayed with Mama Angie. My mother is white and my dad is black. They met
on some vacation out in the Caribbean. They’ve been married for 25 years. As for me,
being that I’m mixed, my hair is gorgeous. I can wear it just about any way I want to and
I dye it honey blonde every 6 months. My mama says it looks good on my skin
complexion. To be honest, I look nothing like my dad. I am a splitting image of my
mother. Nice full breasts, small in the waist, nice curves and I’m only 5’2. But my best
feature of all are my sea green eyes. My mama says I got them from my great great
grandmother Iris and with a name like Heaven, I must be spoiled. When I was 16, for my
first car, I got a brand new Mercedes. Need I say more?
“Yes Daddy.” I said as I walked into his office. Daddy always kept his office nice and
neat. He never had a problem with me going in there and getting on the computer but I
couldn’t touch anything else. My daddy was a very handsome man; very tall and slim.
Brown skinned with very good hair. One feature I loved about him was his eyes. I sure
didn’t have those. My mom was never the type to give him compliments or show she
appreciated him. I think she was only in love with his money. But I knew for sure I was
my dad’s everything. He wasn’t the type to show his affection either. He had his own
way of being affectionate with me. But I knew in my heart how he felt.
“Now look, your mother and I will be leaving for Australia in about 3 hours. Are you
gonna be ok here?” He asked.
“Of course Daddy, I’m 23 years old. I’ll be fine.”
“I know. I just need to make sure we are clear on things before we go. Here’s the number
where you can reach us. Only if it’s an emergency. Alright?” He asked.
“Ok Dad but I have to go now I need to get ready for a date. Have fun!” I said hurrying
out the office. He was known for lecturing; going on and on about nothing. I had to get
ready for my date. John was coming in an hour.
I got jazzy and John arrived in an hour just as he said he would. I heard the
doorbell ring. Our doorman, Jackson, came to my room to let me know John was waiting
downstairs. I threw on my last little bit of lip gloss and headed for the door. John seemed
cool but he wasn’t the only guy. Guys where known for breaking girls hearts and I was
not about to put myself on the line for some guy. No way. At least that’s what my mom
told me.
“Hey John.” I said and smiled as I walked down the stairs. He was really cute. But not
my type. I was into rough guys; tall guys. John was short and too much of a whimp.
“Heaven, you look good.” He said.
“I know, let’s go.” I walked outside and couldn’t believe my eyes.
“What’s that?” I asked with a nasty attitude.
“Oh that’s my ride. Well my Moms ride.”
“A station wagon? Um……NO! I ain’t riding in this. Do you know who I am? Heaven,
meaning I ride in the best of the best. You must be trippin if you think I’m sitting my cute
body in this piece of junk.”
“Heaven wait. It’s just a car.” He yelled back. But I was back into the house before he
knew it. He don’t know who I am I thought as I walked back into my house and slammed
the door.
“Let me go call my girls. I need a drink after this one.”
Katora Narine Michaels
“Mama I don’t know, ok. I’ll try to come over this weekend.”
“Well Tora, I ain’t seen my grandson in weeks.”
“I know things have just been crazy around here. I’ll get over there real soon.”
The truth was I hated going to my mom’s house. Seems like every time I wanted to get
some alone time with her, my mean, rude and judgmental sister, Ziaha, was there. I mean
I love my family but ever since I got pregnant with my son 6 years ago, my sister treated
me like dirt. She judged me and looked down on me because I got pregnant at 17. I
hadn’t even graduated from high school yet. I was a damn good mother though. I just
made a few mistakes. Who hasn’t done that in their life? But her support I wasn’t getting.
Everything I did in her eyes was wrong. How I raised my son, my job, how I looked, my
son’s father. Everything. We got into it every time I came to the house. The way things
were right now, I didn’t have the energy for that mess.
“Look Mama, we can go to church together on Sunday. We’ll spend the whole day
together. Me, you and Kareem.” I said.
“Alright Tora, that works for me.”
“Love you Mama.”
“You too baby.”
Sunday I would have to put on a smile and try to get along with my sister for the
sake of my mama. She hated when we fought. The way me and my sister grew up, you
would think that we would have a better relationship now. We were close. Even though I
was the baby, me 24, Ziaha 29, we had a great relationship. Shared a lot of secrets and
stood up for each other. We were like best friends.
Me and Ziaha have different fathers. She came unexpectedly when my mom was
20. I came out of a long term relationship that went sour when I was about 4. She never
married or got into another relationship again. But my mama loves her girls and always
taught us to hold on to each other because all we had was each other.
My mama never complained about being a single mother. She felt like it was her
God given duty to take care of us. When she had to work, we stayed at our Grandma J’s
house. Mama worked real hard to make ends meet. She was nothing like the typical
single mother. She worked with what she had and that was it. She never sued for child
support or went looking for either of our dads. If they wanted to be apart of our lives,
they knew where to find us.
When I met my boyfriend Ramon and got pregnant, my sister started to act funny.
Like I was making a horrible mistake and messing up my life. Now we were raised in the
church. My mama and grandma didn’t play about that. So, my getting pregnant made my
family look bad and my sister didn’t like that and that’s when all the drama started. She
made me look like I was the outcast of the family. My mama would tell Ziaha to stop
being that way. That’s family and she knows better but my sister didn’t care. She did her
own thing. You just don’t know some of the things I had to endure just living in that
house with my baby. It had nothing to do with looks because me and my sister looked
just a like. Brown skin, medium length hair. Same height. I tried hard avoiding her but
she always came to visit when she moved out. I couldn’t understand why she moved out;
she’s always at my mom’s house. So me, Ramon and my son got a place together when
Kareem was one. I made the house very home like for us. It was a small two bedroom but
it worked for us. We never talked about marriage but we wanted to be together and that
was all that mattered.
I spent most of my days attending to my 6 year old son Kareem and if I wasn’t
attending to him I was at work, at Grandma J’s or with my girls. Kareem was a little
athlete to be so young. He loved basketball and begged me to sign him up for it last year.
Ramon was too busy doing whatever he was doing so I went to his games and practices.
Ramon showed up to a few but not many. Ramon not really being there for Kareem
didn’t affect my son. I never asked how he felt and he never said anything. I figured he
was ok with how things were. He seemed like a happy kid. So I always made sure he
knew I was there for him no matter what his dad did.
The first two years living together were great and we were really in love but you
know most men don’t show their true colors until further into the relationship. Every
week it was something new. He worked late, he didn’t hear his cell phone, there ain’t
nobody else. You know the game. Come to think of it, it’s a new week and Ramon is
coming in late. What was his excuse this time?
Ari Marie Jennings
Oh my goodness, could traffic be anymore slower I thought as I drove home from
work; looking in the rearview mirror at my long jet black hair that was in need of
washing. I hated this drive from work everyday. Even though I only lived 20 minutes
from work, it took forever just to get home but that’s how it was in Atlanta. There was
traffic every where. It seemed like I lived in this car. But I couldn’t complain. This time
last year, I was catching a bus to work and school.
Things didn’t come easy for me. I had to work my butt off just to live
comfortable. I worked a fulltime job at Castro’s; a rich girls clothing store. I went to
college part time for nursing and I still lived at home with my mom. Ain’t that some
mess?
My struggle all started the day I was born, 24 years ago on May 1st. But even
before I was born, it was hard for my mom to make ends meet. I mean it was easier then
because all she had was herself. But even before me, she never lived a fabulous life. She
had to work and grind to get by. From what she told me, she lived in the streets. Dated a
lot of guys and partied. She was a dancer at a night club. It was fast and easy money.
Three years into the job, she met my dad. She was with a lot of men and didn’t find out
who my dad was until I was older but when I came along, I motivated her to do right. She
changed everything but her drinking. That was one habit she wasn’t about to break.
Through out the years, we struggled. Bills were sometimes paid late. Sometimes we
didn’t have food to eat. I’d wake up in the middle of the night hearing my mom praying.
“Lord, please give me the ability to take care of my baby. She don’t deserve this. Lord, I
don’t know what I’m gonna do this time.”
Nights like that I knew things were pretty bad. My mom wasn’t a church going woman
but when she needed to pray, she knew how. Time didn’t make things better either. We
continued to struggle. At times I was ashamed to bring people to my house. Once I got
old enough, my mom broke things some what down to me. Why we struggled, and how
things got like this. I asked a lot of questions especially about my dad. She told me he
was tall and brown skinned; just like me and I had his high cheek bones. But she made
sure to tell me that the only good thing that came out of that relationship was me. With
that being said, I left it alone.
So all through school, I worked hard. A’s and B’s. I wanted to be different and I
didn’t want to live the life my mom did. As a little girl, I had a dream of being an Artist.
When most girls were playing with dolls, I played with my crayons and drew everywhere
I could. Going to Art School has always been a dream of mine. So my senior year in
high school, I decided I wanted to go to the Art Institute in San Diego. I wanted to move
out there and get out of Atlanta. But my mom’s drinking problem got worse. So I just
stayed here with her. I was all she had and I couldn’t leave her. By the time I got ready to
sign up for classes at the Art institute of Atlanta, classes were full. So was the next
semester and I had no choice but to do something different. I couldn’t wait on art school.
So I put my dream a side. Went to school for nursing and worked to pay for school. Life
is hard for me but I am determined to make it.
Marissa Carmen Johnson
“Cyra, Camille, ya’ll better hurry up. Daddy’s on his way.” I screamed at me 9
year old twin sisters.
It was Thursday and they always spent Thursday evening with our dad. Our parents were
divorced; married for 16 years. I was about 13 when they first separated. It didn’t bother
me. I was too busy trying to be grown and get out of the house. One minute they were
married and then one morning daddy was moving out. They never gave me a real reason
to why they divorced. I never really asked.
I did what I had to do for my sisters though. I felt like I was obligated to. Now
I’m not saying my mom was a bad mother. She loved us very much. I think she just got
tired after a while. But I took over what she didn’t do and I didn’t complain. When I got
my first car at 16, I drove my sisters to school sometimes; took them to their friends’
house. My dad gave me some money on the side and told me to get my sisters what they
needed. Most of the time, they called on me for homework or issues in school. I was a
mom and wasn’t even out of high school yet.
When I turned 15, we had a major crisis happen in our family. My parents wanted
me to live the best life possible so my mom and I moved to Decatur from Marietta to start
a new life. When I hit 16, I didn’t go to parties and didn’t do what most teenagers do. I
worked and went to school. All my life I wanted to be a dentist, so I made sure I kept my
grades up that way I would be accepted into a good college. My parents had the money to
send me to a really good college but I just felt like I owed them my life so I always did
my best.
My life revolved around my sisters and still does now that I’m 24. I love them so
much though and I wouldn’t have it any other way. But I was very over protective of
them. I just wanted them to have a better life than me.
My mom acted like she was too busy on Thursday’s to be here when my dad
picked my sisters up. So I came over. It gave me a chance to see my dad anyway.
“Cam…….”
“Dag we right here.” My sister Camille said as she ran down the stairs with her curly hair
flowing behind her. Camille and Cyra were identical twins. Both very light skinned with
two freckles under their left eye. The only difference was Cyra had short curly hair and
Camille had long curly hair. They lived with my mom in the 4 bedroom house that I spent
my teenage years in. You would think it was my dad’s house since he paid all the bills in
the house just so my mom could live comfortably.
“Ya’ll take forever to do nothing.” I answered back.
“Whatever.”
“Where’s your sister?”
“Upstairs getting her stuff.” Camille answered digging in her purse for gum. She was so
girly.
“Look there’s Daddy, go get her.” I said getting irritated because they were so difficult.
“Aw man…..You go get her. I’m tired of chasing her.” Camille said whining.
“Well you shoulda brought her down here with you now go!” I went to answer the door.
“Hey Daddy.”
“Girl you still growing.” He said as if it’s been years since he last saw me. My dad was
6’2. I looked just like him but I sure didn’t have his height. I was only 5’7. He was a laid
back kinda man who was in love with his family. But now he’s turned into a ladies man;
dressed real nice all the time and was very smooth like he had no worries in the world.
Always kept his face clean and his hair cut low. My daddy was very handsome too and
enjoyed everything about life. But the minute he got around his daughters, it was all
about us.
“No Daddy, you just getting old.” I replied as we hugged.
“Uh huh….So where’s your sister’s?”
“Upstairs; taken all day.”
“How’s your Mama?” He asked.
“Alright I guess.”
“Hey Daddy!” Cyra screamed. Cyra was the opposite of Camille. Nothing about her was
girly and she wouldn’t be caught dead wearing a purse. She wanted her hair cut last
summer because she thought it was too much to handle. Camille on the other hand, loved
her long hair.
“Hey there’s my girls. Ya’ll ready?” My dad asked.
“Yup.”
“I’m ready.” As they were getting into the car, I thought about my sister’s. They were
such daddy’s girls. I loved them so much; just as if they were mine. But my thoughts
were interrupted by my phone. It was none other than my mom. Before I answered I
looked up to see if they were gone yet but my dad must have heard my phone ring and
saw the expression on my face. He knew who it was without me even telling him.
Shaine “Heaven” Berlin
Where was my Gucci skirt? If I was gonna look fly today, I had to be wearing that
skirt. But who am I kidding; I look good in anything I wear. Today was John’s lucky day.
After 2 months of begging me to go out with him, I finally told him yes earlier this week
at school. What the heck, I wasn’t doing anything today anyway.
“Heaven!” Mama Angie called.
“Yes!”
“Your Father would like to see you in his office.” She answered.
Heaven, you like that name huh? My mama said she gave me Heaven as my middle name
because I was so precious and nothing was more important than me. Mama Angie is my
childhood nanny. I got so used to her that she stayed around even when I was old enough
to take care of myself. She’s now one of the maids but I still spend a lot of time with her.
I was born in Malibu California. My parents are hella rich. My daddy is a
neurologist and my mom; well she’s just a housewife with three maids, a butler, a
doorman, two chefs and my nanny Mama Angie. When my mom got tired of being
“mom” I stayed with Mama Angie. My mother is white and my dad is black. They met
on some vacation out in the Caribbean. They’ve been married for 25 years. As for me,
being that I’m mixed, my hair is gorgeous. I can wear it just about any way I want to and
I dye it honey blonde every 6 months. My mama says it looks good on my skin
complexion. To be honest, I look nothing like my dad. I am a splitting image of my
mother. Nice full breasts, small in the waist, nice curves and I’m only 5’2. But my best
feature of all are my sea green eyes. My mama says I got them from my great great
grandmother Iris and with a name like Heaven, I must be spoiled. When I was 16, for my
first car, I got a brand new Mercedes. Need I say more?
“Yes Daddy.” I said as I walked into his office. Daddy always kept his office nice and
neat. He never had a problem with me going in there and getting on the computer but I
couldn’t touch anything else. My daddy was a very handsome man; very tall and slim.
Brown skinned with very good hair. One feature I loved about him was his eyes. I sure
didn’t have those. My mom was never the type to give him compliments or show she
appreciated him. I think she was only in love with his money. But I knew for sure I was
my dad’s everything. He wasn’t the type to show his affection either. He had his own
way of being affectionate with me. But I knew in my heart how he felt.
“Now look, your mother and I will be leaving for Australia in about 3 hours. Are you
gonna be ok here?” He asked.
“Of course Daddy, I’m 23 years old. I’ll be fine.”
“I know. I just need to make sure we are clear on things before we go. Here’s the number
where you can reach us. Only if it’s an emergency. Alright?” He asked.
“Ok Dad but I have to go now I need to get ready for a date. Have fun!” I said hurrying
out the office. He was known for lecturing; going on and on about nothing. I had to get
ready for my date. John was coming in an hour.
I got jazzy and John arrived in an hour just as he said he would. I heard the
doorbell ring. Our doorman, Jackson, came to my room to let me know John was waiting
downstairs. I threw on my last little bit of lip gloss and headed for the door. John seemed
cool but he wasn’t the only guy. Guys where known for breaking girls hearts and I was
not about to put myself on the line for some guy. No way. At least that’s what my mom
told me.
“Hey John.” I said and smiled as I walked down the stairs. He was really cute. But not
my type. I was into rough guys; tall guys. John was short and too much of a whimp.
“Heaven, you look good.” He said.
“I know, let’s go.” I walked outside and couldn’t believe my eyes.
“What’s that?” I asked with a nasty attitude.
“Oh that’s my ride. Well my Moms ride.”
“A station wagon? Um……NO! I ain’t riding in this. Do you know who I am? Heaven,
meaning I ride in the best of the best. You must be trippin if you think I’m sitting my cute
body in this piece of junk.”
“Heaven wait. It’s just a car.” He yelled back. But I was back into the house before he
knew it. He don’t know who I am I thought as I walked back into my house and slammed
the door.
“Let me go call my girls. I need a drink after this one.”
Katora Narine Michaels
“Mama I don’t know, ok. I’ll try to come over this weekend.”
“Well Tora, I ain’t seen my grandson in weeks.”
“I know things have just been crazy around here. I’ll get over there real soon.”
The truth was I hated going to my mom’s house. Seems like every time I wanted to get
some alone time with her, my mean, rude and judgmental sister, Ziaha, was there. I mean
I love my family but ever since I got pregnant with my son 6 years ago, my sister treated
me like dirt. She judged me and looked down on me because I got pregnant at 17. I
hadn’t even graduated from high school yet. I was a damn good mother though. I just
made a few mistakes. Who hasn’t done that in their life? But her support I wasn’t getting.
Everything I did in her eyes was wrong. How I raised my son, my job, how I looked, my
son’s father. Everything. We got into it every time I came to the house. The way things
were right now, I didn’t have the energy for that mess.
“Look Mama, we can go to church together on Sunday. We’ll spend the whole day
together. Me, you and Kareem.” I said.
“Alright Tora, that works for me.”
“Love you Mama.”
“You too baby.”
Sunday I would have to put on a smile and try to get along with my sister for the
sake of my mama. She hated when we fought. The way me and my sister grew up, you
would think that we would have a better relationship now. We were close. Even though I
was the baby, me 24, Ziaha 29, we had a great relationship. Shared a lot of secrets and
stood up for each other. We were like best friends.
Me and Ziaha have different fathers. She came unexpectedly when my mom was
20. I came out of a long term relationship that went sour when I was about 4. She never
married or got into another relationship again. But my mama loves her girls and always
taught us to hold on to each other because all we had was each other.
My mama never complained about being a single mother. She felt like it was her
God given duty to take care of us. When she had to work, we stayed at our Grandma J’s
house. Mama worked real hard to make ends meet. She was nothing like the typical
single mother. She worked with what she had and that was it. She never sued for child
support or went looking for either of our dads. If they wanted to be apart of our lives,
they knew where to find us.
When I met my boyfriend Ramon and got pregnant, my sister started to act funny.
Like I was making a horrible mistake and messing up my life. Now we were raised in the
church. My mama and grandma didn’t play about that. So, my getting pregnant made my
family look bad and my sister didn’t like that and that’s when all the drama started. She
made me look like I was the outcast of the family. My mama would tell Ziaha to stop
being that way. That’s family and she knows better but my sister didn’t care. She did her
own thing. You just don’t know some of the things I had to endure just living in that
house with my baby. It had nothing to do with looks because me and my sister looked
just a like. Brown skin, medium length hair. Same height. I tried hard avoiding her but
she always came to visit when she moved out. I couldn’t understand why she moved out;
she’s always at my mom’s house. So me, Ramon and my son got a place together when
Kareem was one. I made the house very home like for us. It was a small two bedroom but
it worked for us. We never talked about marriage but we wanted to be together and that
was all that mattered.
I spent most of my days attending to my 6 year old son Kareem and if I wasn’t
attending to him I was at work, at Grandma J’s or with my girls. Kareem was a little
athlete to be so young. He loved basketball and begged me to sign him up for it last year.
Ramon was too busy doing whatever he was doing so I went to his games and practices.
Ramon showed up to a few but not many. Ramon not really being there for Kareem
didn’t affect my son. I never asked how he felt and he never said anything. I figured he
was ok with how things were. He seemed like a happy kid. So I always made sure he
knew I was there for him no matter what his dad did.
The first two years living together were great and we were really in love but you
know most men don’t show their true colors until further into the relationship. Every
week it was something new. He worked late, he didn’t hear his cell phone, there ain’t
nobody else. You know the game. Come to think of it, it’s a new week and Ramon is
coming in late. What was his excuse this time?
Replies to This Discussion
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Permalink Reply by Brent Mason on -
I like the way you have laid out the characters. They sound unique from each other. I had a similar situation (Ari) in regards to trying to go to art school away from home, but circumstances in my family kept me from doing so. I can also relate to Marissa's dad, like to be clean and neat for the ladies but when my babies are around it's all about them and them being daddy's girls. Too close to home on that.
Are the girls going to meet somehow? Since the theme is "four friends", they seem to be far from each other in distance along with very different circumstances and age ranges. It will be interesting how you pull it off.
I notice that each of them speak in first person. How is that going to work further along in the book? You also may want to have more dialogue.
Good read.
-Brent
-
Permalink Reply by Dominique on -
Hi Brent Thanks for the comments. This is the first chapter so the characters are basically letting you know who they are. Yes all through the book they speak in first person, basically telling their side of the story. Yes they are friends and in chapter two you find out how they became friends.
I will post chapter two so you can get a feel of where it's going. Again, thank you for the input
Dominique
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