Trap

Prologue

Antonette  ( 14 ) 2 years earlier

Tapping my pen on my notebook numerous times I gave up on hearing what my mom had to say about my homework assignment.

She was a highschool math teacher so she was really smart, right? Hell I mean if she was so smart she could answer me this.

"Yo mom why isn't dad always home? You know? He says he'd be home soon but that doesn't come around until 6 months later" I complained about and she sighed setting her pen down knowing that I wasn't gonna drop this conversation.

But the question never got an answer. I knew what my dad did I just wanted to know if my parents would tell the truth about it.

It was starting to frustrate me.

"Your fathers a very busy business man hun" My mom sighed shifting in her seat and I scrunched my face up.

"I mean why cant he do his work from home, He's always traveling to Cuba or back to Puerto Rico while we have to live here in this dump of a neighborhood" I snapped .

"Enough Antonette!" I felt my face grow warm and a lump form in my throat. I wanted to cry so bad. I needed to cry so bad.

I was tired of this shit. Tired of holding all of this pain in and pretending everything is ok when its not.

"He's up in Cuba now selling dope and making money while we're here starving and struggling to make ends meet!" I sobbed out getting tears all over the inked paper.

"Antonette that's enough !" My mother yelled but I wasn't finished saying what I had to say. " And your just pretending like nothings happening, like this is all perfect" I reply throwing my pen down and she got up from her chair and storming into the bathroom.

My name was Antonette Cosgrove, My father was Fedeline Cosgrove the topic of our discussion at the moment.

From since I was born until I was seven years old we lived a beautiful simple life in Cuba.

When I turned 8 years old my father fled us to the slums of Chicago because he got "caught up" with something in Cuba and he's been recently going back trying to fix things back there.

I remember him telling me we could never go back there ever again.

They never told me but I know that he runs a cartel back in Cuba and had some ties with Puerto rico. I just couldn't figure out what was so damn important that he had to spend 6+ plus months up there and why we couldn't come along.

I stayed up all night every night putting the pieces together and it was pissing me off that me and my mother weren't getting any off of it.

Once I calmed down I got up from the corner and headed into the small spanish styled kitchen and walking up to my mother who was silently crying.

"Im sorry mom I didn't mean to make you cry I just, got a little upset" I said as put my hand on her shoulder and she pulled me in for a hug.

" I know Im upset about it too, I guess I can tell you the full story now that your more aware" She says in her heavy Spanish accent.

She lead me over to the small couch and turned the tv that was playing the Simpsons off. "Okay listen..."