Clouded Soul

22

I walked up the stairs and find him watching TV. As soon as I walk in, he turns the TV off, flips on his side and kissed his teeth.

"Dominic..."

I sigh upon hearing no response. Mercy, you've really done it this time, I say to myself.

"Dom, can you talk to me?"

He didn't reply again so I got on the bed and shook him. He flipped over, snatching my hands up and looking at me annoyed.

"Cut that shit out," he said shoving my hands away.

"Well then look at me. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about my dad. I just don't want you to think badly of him," I mumble.

He turns over and stares at me blankly for a couple of minutes before sighing and saying, "I already think badly of him — the ni — I mean dude is in prison. Might as well just lay it on me."

"Well...when I was younger, he was watching me and my sister. He'd got into it with mom so he started drinking and he drank a lot. I was crying for a stupid reason and he got mad at me and beat me up really bad. He kept referring to me as Mama. T-That's where this came from — you touched it earlier," I said lifting my shirt, "I threw the bottle at him and the glass went everywhere. He shoved me into it and a piece of glass got stuck right there. Mama hates him but I forgive him and love him. He tells me every days he's sorry and he has been paying for it for years. The last time I went I almost didn't recognize him because the guys beat him up so bad. I know they probably...did other things too. But he's still my dad."

He stared at me, not saying anything for a while. I was wondering if he would say something and what would he say. My mind was all over the place. After a while, he reached up wiping my face and pulling me into a tight hug.

"That's some crazy love you got for your dad. I would hate my dad if he'd done that to me," he said honestly.

"But he didn't mean to and I knew it. I should've just stopped crying," I say clinging onto his shirt.

"Nah. You can't turn this around on yourself. He should've never been drinking. You was a kid and kids cry. Now stop crying because you not a kid and you gon make me sad," he said.

"I'm sorry," I apologize.

He kissed his teeth.

"Stop apologizing Ma. What you even apologizing for," he asked looking at me frowning.

"I c-can't stop c-crying and you want me t-to stop," I hiccup.

"You don't need to apologize. Just stop crying okay. I don't mind if you cry but only happy tears, alright?"

I nod my head and he kissed my forehead rubbing my back. We laid there for about a good half an hour before I was fully calmed down. Now not only was his sheets soaked, so was his shirt.

"Thanks Dominic," I say.

"Dom baby girl. Gotta say Dom," he said chuckling.

I roll my eyes and stare at him.

"Should've never started that. I like it — got a nice ring to it you know," he jokes licking his lips.

I shake my head and put my face in his chest. He really smelled so good that I thought I might just fall asleep.

"Knock knock! I'm ho — Oh! You two been getting close I see. Protection before C-Section," his mama said with a smirk.

"Yo that's not even happening," Dominic defended.

"Right, so you two are curled up together just...talking," she asked skeptically.

"Yeah, just chill on that. That's disrespectful to Mercy, she not like that."

I just stayed quiet.

"Boy calm down before I box you in the throat. I know Mercy isn't one them lil hoes, but I know my son too. Just keep to yourselves and keep shit friendly."

I nod my head but she never looked at me. She stayed staring at Dominic. He shrugged which made me look at him funny. Whenever he shrugs it most likely meant 'whatever I'll do whatever I feel like doing'.

She shut the door and left. Dominic let go of me and rolled over on his side of the bed. I felt cold and just a little lonely. I stayed on my side though and just laid there.

The sound of Dominic's phone ringing disrupted the quiet atmosphere. I watched Dominic get up and answer it sighing.

"Speak," he said standing up.

He was quiet for a while but then said, "Nah I can do it tomorrow. I'll be busy tonight."

He waited again.

"Whatever. You act like I can't just do it tomorrow. Quit calling so late too," he said hanging up.

When he turned back around he had the mean look on his face and I could pretty much guess what the conversation was about. He was going to either sell some drugs or collect money from some addict. Where else would he be going? He doesn't work and he doesn't go to school.

"You going to just stare at me or what," he asked with a slight attitude.

"Sorry, I was just...wondering if..." I said beginning to trail off.

"Wondering what? Who I was talking to and about what," he asked.

"Y-Yeah," I say looking away.

"Ain't none of your business. Don't ease-drop on my conversation and ask questions afterwards. If I wanted you to know about it, I'd have put it on speaker," he said snatching up his hoodie and slipping on his white air forces.

"I'm sorry...damn."

How'd he go from being nice and caring to being mean and indifferent? My feelings were hurt — he knew it but didn't even change his tone or apologize.

"I'm going out. Don't stay up and wait for me if I'm not back by 10," he said curtly.

I nod my head and watched him as he walked out, slamming the door behind him. Damn.