This story is for those girls (including myself) who can sometimes get caught up in the beauty of material things.
5 years ago...
Ziya felt like her throat was closing since it was so hard to breath. She walked down the street trying to get home without causing any attention to herself luckily for her it was well into the night and for once the street was quiet. Her hands and pants were stained from excessive amount of blood that she lost. She had just walked past the house of the new girl on the block when their screen door flew open and the girl whose name nobody knew just yet came running out.
"Denim get your ass back here" a female voice yelled out.
"I should have never came back here" she said running across the street right into Ziya.
Ziya was so lost in her own world that she didn't even say anything to Denim she just continued to walk. "Are you okay?" Denim asked as she caught up with Ziya, it took her a minute to realize something was off with her.
Ziya turned her head and took the time to take in how she looked, she was a pretty girl despite her hair being disheveled.
"No" she finally said trying her hardest not to cry.
"Is there something I can do?" Denim asked sincerely.
"You got your own problems."
"Bitch you aint neva lied" Denim said thinking about the fight she had just had with her foster mother "but I can still help you."
Ziya stopped walking and turned to look at Denim. For whatever reason she felt like confiding in her since she had no one else she would be able to talk to. Her aunt was never home and her cousins ran the streets more than they saw the inside of their house. All of the "friends" she had would only tell her to suck it up and her so called boyfriend was sleeping with some bitch on the next block.
"I was raped" Ziya confessed surprised that she was even able to get the words out. As she had been walking home Ziya had been saying it over and over in her head trying to make it as real as the pain she was in. But nothing was as real as saying it out loud.
She had been raped.
"By who? I got a cousin who can fuck em up" Denim said seriously.
"It was four of them" Ziya broke down crying and Denim hugged her. It hurt Ziya to even think about how a trip to the corner store had turned into her being raped by four niggas who weren't even from her neighborhood.
"Where do you live?"
"Four houses down" Denim nodded and helped Ziya to her house. She took the keys from Ziya's shaky hands and unlocked the door letting them both in.
Denim didn't know a thing about the house but you couldn't tell by the way she walked around. She found Ziya's room after seeing her pictures on the dresser, she picked her out some new underwear and a t-shirt before crossing the hall to the bathroom. She pulled back the curtain happy that the tub was actually clean if it was one thing Denim hated it was a dirty ass tub. After putting the stopper in she filled the tub with hot water and bubbles from under the cabinet. Coming back out of the bathroom she found Ziya sitting on her bed crying.
"I made you a bath" Denim said standing awkwardly at the door. She didn't know thing about Ziya but yet here she was in her house acting like more of a friend than any of the people ZIya had known for years.
"Why are you helping me? You don't even know me" Ziya wiped her face with the back of her hands.
"I know but I've been in your shoes" Denim looked down at her feet as she rocked back and forth.
"You were raped?"
"A few times" Denim chuckled but you could hear the sadness behind it. A big portion of Denim's childhood had been spent being molested and eventually raped by the men her mother brought around. Denim's mother Destiny was no drug addict or prostitute she was just young and money hungry. And a few of them men she brought around seemed to have a thing for little girls.
Ziya stared at Denim for a second not seeing the person everyone had been spreading rumors about. Since she had moved onto the street Ziya had heard nothing but horrible things about her. Some people were saying she was a prostitute which was why her body looked like it did and others were saying she had already had sex with half of the street and she'd hadn't been there for two weeks yet.
"I'm Ziya" she introduced herself as she stood ignoring the pain she was in.
"I know everybody knows you. I'm Denim, the hoe" she said sarcastically. Denim knew Ziya had to have heard the rumors seeing how popular she was.
"You don't seem like that kind of person."
"I'm not, I don't even like being around niggas better yet having sex with them. But its whatever as soon as the school year is over I'm leaving. I've been working since I was 14 and I've been saving my money."
"Where are you going to go?"
Denim shrugged since she didn't really have a plan just yet.
"Can I come with you?" Ziya asked seriously. She knew she would probably never move with Denim but at this point in her life Ziya needed something to look forward to. And Denim seemed to be a chick with her head on right something Ziya couldn't say about anyone else around their hood. And to top it off her aura was real as fuck and Ziya liked it.
"Yeah why not" Denim shrugged making them both laugh.
"Thank you Denim" Ziya sincerely looked at her. After the horrors of her night she felt the slightest bit of better having spoken to Denim.
"It's cool, like I said I know the feeling. Just don't let it consume you like I let it do to me. To this day I can't be in the same room with a nigga without thinking he's going to do something bad to me, shit half of the time I can't even sleep. Just know that it'll hurt for a while, you're going to blame yourself, you're going to be mad and eventually you'll move on but you will never forget it."
Ziya had to look at Denim twice, she spoke like a grown ass woman instead of a teenager. "How old are you?" she asked needing to make sure.
"17, but I'm wise as fuck."
YOU ARE READING
Zaddy (Urban) #wattys2016General Fiction
Two girls brought together by the thing that changed them the most. Abuse. Years, after the horrors that changed both Ziya and Denim's life they are closer than ever but have two completely different outlooks on love. For Ziya, using a man for his...