Nobody Like You

Five - Young Shotta

I was never the type to let females get under my skin.  But then again, any girl I decided to entertain knew better than to try me.  This sidity bitch had me fucked up, down, left and right.  Anyone who knew anything about anything knew not to talk big shit to Fire Trevelyan, or there would be repercussions.  It was obvious Ciara didn't know me or she would've came correct.  She had a slick ass mouth and fucked up attitude, and I couldn't stand chicks like that.  But on the flip, baby was a firework and her bad ass turned me on.  Ciara was a little different from any other chick I had ever come across.  She wore a look of yearn on her face that never seemed to go away.  Even when she was mad and talking shit, you could see a deep want in her eyes.  Regardless of what she was wanting for, her smart ass comments pissed me off and she was on my list.
Everyone's eyes darted towards the door as I entered Mrs. Marciano's classroom.  Eyes were fixated on me as I made my way over to my desk, and slid into it.
"Um, Fire?"  Mrs. Marciano glanced at the door then focused on me.  "Where is Ciara?"
I shrugged my shoulders before pulling my cell phone out of my pocket. The vibration was irritating the hell out of me, and I knew it wasn't nobody but Mercy blowing me up like that.
"What do you mean you don't know?  She showed you around the school like I asked her to, didn't she?"  Mrs. Marciano asked.
"Yes she did.  I went to the restroom and when I came out, she was gone.  So like I said, I don't know where she is."  I spat, averting my attention back to my text message.  I really didn't know where she was, and frankly I didn't give a fuck.  What I did know was that she needed to steer clear of me, because I was ready to snap on her ass.  How could I even let her get to me like that?  The shit reminded me of why I only messed with chicks on a certain level – fuck them and toss them when I was finished with them.  I didn't deal with petty love drama and bad attitudes.  When I felt a female getting too clingy and wanting to show her ass, I would cut her quick.  That was only a fraction of the reason I'd only had one girlfriend my whole life.
My heart was a subzero icebox, and I opened it for no one.  The only people I trusted were my best friend Che, my father Dominic, and his right hand man, Mercy.  Sometimes, I even had my reservations about Mercy.  When it came to girls I didn't mess with too many.  In my opinion, most females were too damn superficial, self-centered, and grimy to hold loyalty for me.  I fucked girls here and there, but only one managed to gain my heart.  Tiffany Lovelace was the first girl I ever had feelings for.  After my mother abandoned me at a young age, I said I would never have any type of feelings for any girl because of that.  Tiffany changed my thoughts – well almost. 
During the middle of sophomore year, my father abruptly took me out of school and moved us to Kingston, Jamaica, which is where my family was originally from.  Once I told Tiffany about the move, she was heartbroken.  She cried, pleaded and begged for me to stay in Kansas City with her.  She even asked her mother if I could live with them, but of course her mother declined.  As I stated before, I had strong feelings for Tiffany, but I didn't love her.  I didn't want to and refused to fall in love.  Our relationship consisted of no more than occasional dates, phone conversations when I had the time to talk to her, and sex.  Crazy, butt – naked, hardcore sex.  My life was too chaotic to be the boyfriend she wanted me to be.  So, occasional dates and midnight sex sessions was all that I could manage to give her. 
A few months after I was in Jamaica, Che called me up and revealed the one thing I didn't want to hear.  He told me that he found out Tiffany had been cheating on me the entire time we were together with the one nigga in this world that I hated.  She turned out to be nothing more than a jersey chasing jump – off who did anything to have everything.  After that and the ill feelings I already had towards my mother, I made a vow that day that I would never let myself have any feelings for another woman again in life.  That had been my word ever since.

The day my mother left me and my father, was the worst day of my entire life.  On that day, my innocent childhood was completely obliterated and I became a man way before my time.  The last day of fifth grade was the worst day of my young life.  The sun was beaming down on me as I sat in the front seat of Mercy's black Cadillac CTS, and I was happier than a fat kid in a candy store about summer.  My mother had planned a two-week trip to Brazil for her and my dad's anniversary, and me and Che were due to spend the entire summer in Jamaica with my Grandma Ella.  My spirits were high, and nothing could bring me down from my beatitude.  Naturally, Mercy had to go handle business for my dad, so he dropped me off at home.
As I walked into my house, I dropped my backpack by the door and started calling out for my mother.
"Mom!"  I shouted, running up the stairs.  I kept calling out for her, but got no response.  As I jogged down the stairs my former nanny now family friend, Marcia, came sauntering out of the kitchen.
"Hey Cia.  Where's my mom?"  I asked.  I noticed how red Marcia's normally caramel face was, and her eyes were glassy and red like she had been crying.  She kneeled down at eye level with me.
"Cia, what's the matter?"  I asked, wiping away a tear that slipped from her eye.  "Why are you crying?"
Marcia stared at me with sadness glinting in her eyes.  She pulled me into her, hugging me tightly.  I will admit she made me nervous with all the damn emotion.  She was crying and hugging me and I didn't have the slightest idea why. 
"Cia, what's wrong?  Where's my mom?"  I asked her again.  She pulled away from me, giving me that same look of sadness.  She stood to her full height, grabbing my hand and leading me over to the white L shaped leather sectional in our vast living room.  We sat on the couch, my hand still in hers.
"I want to give you something."  Marcia stated in her heavy Jamaican dialect.  She pulled a folded piece of paper from the pocket of her black apron, placing it in my hand.  I warily looked down at the folded piece of paper, then back at Marcia.  Every time our eyes met, Marcia would release more tears. 
"What is this, Cia?"  I asked, studying her face.
"Open it."  She simply said, steadily wiping tears from her cheeks.  I opened the piece of paper, and read it thoroughly.
To my precious Fire,
I am writing you this letter, because I am too ashamed to tell you everything I need to say to your face.  I am leaving baby.  Your father and I are not happy, and I honestly I don't love him anymore.  I just can't compete with his lifestyle or the women that he chooses to spend his time with instead of me.  I am sorry I have to leave you like this, but I want you to know that I do and always will love you.  You're mommy's everything.  Once I get settled into my new house, I will be back for you. I promise.  I love you Fire Amari.
Love Always, Mommy