Hurt Me

My name is Hurt Michele Moore. As you can see, there is a certain irony in my name. Though unique, I understood why my mother chose that name. That’s how she felt, hurt. Her no good excuse for a sperm donor left her high and dry when she had me after all that lovey dovey talk he was supposed to be doing while she was pregnant with me. My mother believed everything that he said about until she had to push me out then that disrespectful Negro was gone. I heard I got some other brothers and sisters out there but I don’t give a fuck. They’re not my family, they’re his family. And as far as I’m concerned, I don’t want anything to do with him or his family. He left us. That’s the end of that chapter.

So as you can guess that bitterness I have towards my father and the fact I have to bear the name of the emotion my mother had to deal with, I had a real hatred for those of the opposite sex. All men were users in my book and my book was the only literature that held true.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not a full blown lesbian or anything. I mean I do like my wetness licked every now and again and sometimes it doesn’t matter the gender. But I do love men…tall, dark, sexy, men. I just don’t trust those motherfuckers, not as far as my petite arms can throw them.

However, despite my name, I am blessed. Blessed with unremarkable beauty. I know that sounds conceited and well it is but I can’t help but be honest. I’m 5’7, thin waist, long legs, double dees fit in a bra so nice, light skin with the cutest toes ever. Men, and women, would die at the pleasure to suck on my toes. But what I love is my long hair. It’s dark brown with auburn highlights now but it’s lengthy and strong and I have so much fun switching up hairstyles. That was at last one good thing that no good bastard of a father gave me. He was half Indian and Puerto Rican so I could have understood why my mother went for him so hard.

When I was young, people used to make fun of name and even asked my mother how could she name her daughter that? She always replied ‘if you don’t know what I’ve been though, you don’t have to ask me or judge me. And if you do know what I’ve been through, then you would know why. My daughter will forever know what that emotion means and I will raise her so she never has to deal with it like I did.’

And my mother did. She busted her ass working and providing for me.  She went to school and became a registered nurse. She never had any other children and even though she dated from time to time, no man ever was good enough to keep. My mother figured they would all end up doing what her original first heart breaker and she wasn’t going to have another Hurt. However, despite my name and my hard upbringing, it wasn’t hard for me to be popular. Shit, I was gorgeous and soon I even started liking my name. I mean it branded me but it made strong because it showed how severe a woman’s pain can be and I loved my mother for her strength. Because of me, she will hurt no more.

“Come on, heifer, you done looking yourself in the mirror yet?” my best friend, or should I say bestie, Lyric, asked, teasing me again.

I really love my girl Lyric. She’s the coolest downiest bitch you will ever know. I mean she had a hard knock life too. I mean a real orphan Annie story and like me, she was blessed with a body of a goddess. Together along with my other girlfriend, Laurel, we were a bad combination. We were called the Three Sexeteers. Now don’t start shaking your head, we weren’t a bunch of hoes running around trying to fuck every dude in sight and we definitely weren’t some broke ass bitches waiting to get a nigga to get a nut off on us. We were just sexy. I mean we weren’t virgins but we weren’t sex fiends either. Christ, I’m only eighteen, what do you take me for?

“So where we meeting Miss PITA at today?” Lyric was referring to our other friend, Laurel, alias Pain In The Ass because she always was complaining about something.