Literary Harts

9. The Waiting Line

Mami nor Trae were speaking to me.

I was terrible and deserved every second of their torment.

It's been nearly two days and I haven't heard from either of them.

Every message I sent to Trae, he would leave every single one of them on read. Mami on the other hand simply wasn't picking up. When that Monday came around, I tried my best to find the courage to go to class, but I didn't have it in me to get up. If it weren't for the fact that attendance didn't matter, I would've been more eager on going.

Trae didn't deserve it at all.

How I exploded on him had brought me back to when he had first did it to me. We were only kids and tension was high so it was expected, but he had promised that would be the last time—and he kept it. Since then, he's always used his voice and patience when dealing with me, even when I wasn't so willing. I should've known that even he had his limits. I just grew to comfortable with him always coming back that I allowed myself to be careless.

Trae's poetry was something that meant the world to me, it was how he was able to view me. When he told me that he no longer wanted to do it, a part of me had worried that he would one day outgrow me. I was lucky enough when we were kids that whenever I left, he waited for me; now that we were much older, I wasn't sure if I still had that pull over him. I laid in bed crying for hours because I couldn't handle the mere thought of him breaking things off with me.

I was jealously.

Everyone that we knew had always encouraged him to chase after his dreams, especially his mother. The support that she drowns him in is outstanding, I just wished Mami would do the same for me.

My tears grew heavier.

I've never seen Mami cry in such a way before. Her tears had always stemmed from a place of joy. I didn't think it was possible for a child to break their mother's heart, yet there I was sulking in the regret that I made after making her cry.

Mami was never embarrassed when it came to her story.

She was a fifteen year old Dominican girl pregnant with her first child. She didn't get the chance to finish school or any other monumental things that I got to experience when I was her age. She used to tell us that our mistakes aren't what defies us, but rather what shapes us. But I didn't see the shaping of the women who made something out of nothing, instead I looked at her with the same eyes that judge her for being young and in love.

Mami was my world and I was hers, but it felt like everything had simply been put on pause and I was the reason why.

I had picked up the phone and called someone who I knew would pick up even when I wasn't deserving of it.

"Well if it isn't the Troublemaker?" Anthony teased from his end of the phone.

"You don't understand how relived I am to hear your voice right now." My cries grew obvious on my end.

Anthony had been at work. Usually the docks are slow around this time, so he's able to have more freedom to pick up. He was the best person to call. Khaell and Bianca had class, Abuela would be too saddened, and Vera would only make me feel worse which was something I didn't need. Anthony on the other hand, he'd be tough but he'll call me out and at least help me out on making things right.

He told me that he knew everything that had happened. Mami wouldn't stop crying and pretty much locked herself in the room. She only stepped out for work and nothing more. It pained me to know that I had been the reason.