Braylin Brooks
When I was five years old my mother asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I looked up at her with my big brown eyes and said innocently that I wanted to be like her. I knew that I threw her off with my answer by the way she looked at me. She probably thought I'd say something along the lines of a princess, being that I just loved all the Disney princesses, but I shocked her with my unexpected answer. She twisted her lips to the side and squinted her eyes at me.
"Why?" she asked.
I told her that I wanted to be like her because she was perfect and she made all my dreams come true. Being that I was her only daughter and her youngest child, she spoiled me rotten. Whatever I wanted, I got it with no questions asked. She always took me out to get my nails done with her. She'd take me shopping and dress me in the cutest clothes. My hair was always done in different styles every week. And when my brothers caught themselves trying to bully me, my momma was right there to nip that shit in the bud. I appreciated the roof she kept over our heads, the food on the table and clothes on our backs. And during the holidays, we never wanted for anything. And I knew there was no such thing as Santa Claus. My mother put all those gifts under the tree. She was my Santa Claus, tooth fairy and easter bunny. My super woman. I wanted to be just like her.
Eight years later, she asked me the same question when things started to get a little tough in my household. We moved out of our nice home and into a condo in the middle of New Haven where I wasn't allowed to be outside when the street lights came on because that was when the freaks came out. I no longer had the newest clothes, instead I started my freshman year of high school with the same clothes I wore as an 8th grader. There were nights I went to bed hungry because money was low or she worked late and my brothers were too busy entertaining the freaks that stood by the street light poles to feed me. We argued more because she treated them differently than she treated me. The age difference was relevant but it still wasn't fair.
I was thirteen and I wanted to be able to go to the mall with my friends, go to the sleepovers I was invited to as well as birthday parties but the answer was always no. And her excuse was, "I'm not there to protect you" Meanwhile, my brothers came and went whenever they pleased. I was held hostage but they were free to do whatever... no questions asked.
"BB, they're older than you. They can protect themselves out there."
Brandon was the oldest. Nineteen years old. Then there was Justin who was sixteen and Tyree was fifteen...we were all still kids. It didn't make sense to me at all. That's when I realized shit wasn't as sweet as it used to be. Instead of hurting her feelings and saying "I don't wanna be shit like you anymore" I faked a smile and said I wanted to be a nurse.
At sixteen, when our relationship was completely down the drain, she asked me once more and this time I didn't spare her feelings. I told her to get the fuck out of my face. She knew that the relationship we had was now dead. I mean, shit I didn't even call her mom anymore. She couldn't just come up to me asking that question like everything was peaches and cream because it wasn't. The favoritism that was once toward me was now towards Brandon and all the dirty money he made.. I went from being the baby girl to the Disney princess she was expecting me to say I wanted to be when I was five. Cinderella... living amongst her unfair momma and drug dealing older brothers.
But I didn't tell her to get out of my face because we didn't get along. I didn't say it because I didn't know.. the answer was the same as it was three years ago, I wanted to be a nurse. I said those words because I couldn't tell her that I already was what I was going to be for the rest of my life.
