Hard Knocks. (Urban Fiction)

Chapter 1

Every single day it's this same shit. 

"Aye, Mir!", I heard someone call. I turned and saw my best friend McKenzie.

"Whaaaat, bruh?", I answered.

"Where you going?", she squinted. Nosy ass.

"Don't worry about it, ma.", I said and rolled my eyes.

"Nope. Where. Are. You. Going. Miracle. Nicole. Jones?"

"Fuck you using my government name for?"

"So you can listen!", she laughed.

"You know good and damn well where I'm going, okay? Shit. Now, let me go home and get ready."

I had nothing against her, that's my girl. I'm just tired of doing this. Stripping ain't easy. I'm tired of those bum ass dudes coming in tryna touch me and shit. It's irritating.

"Iight, b.", she shrugged.

I sighed, "Nah bruh. You good, you good. I just don't wanna go.".

"I know you don't. I told you to give that shit up. You can't go and be 'Sky Velvet' forever. When are you going to get a decent job and get your money right, bruh?"

I looked at her. McKenzie Willis. She was 5'2 to my 5'5 and reminded me of a mother, if I had one. Really goofy, funny, and sure as hell reliable. No shit is tolerated. This girl has been down with me since I got to that hellhole school. We're seniors now and she's all up on that "What is our future?" type shit. I'm not worried. She can go off and be successful and I'll be here doing what I gotta do.

"I'm good with what I got. I'll call you when I get home from work."

She nodded to me, mumbled her "Alright", and went off. I walked to my red 2008 Challenger and slid into the driver's seat. As I started the car, the engine made a loud pop noise and I know a puff of black smoke came out my muffler.

I really need a new car. 

I turned on Pandora to the Speaker Knockerz station and started driving home.

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I walked into the small one story my "father" left me. He'd come back once or twice a month to give me some money, but then end up leaving to do other stuff. He wasn't my real daddy, nah. Apparently, I wasn't good enough for them niggas because they left me to die in an alley. That's when he took me in. I never remembered that day, but that's what he told me. Whatever he says is true. I can never question. Learned that the hard way.

"Aye, girl!", a deep voice spoke.

I knew it was him. "What's good?"

"Come let me see you for a minute."

His voice came from the kitchen, so I walked in and hopped on the counter.

"Getcho scrawny ass off the island, people eat there. The fuck yo manners go?", he was leaning on a bar stool with a look of disgust.

"Whatever, nigga.", I mumbled.

"What did you say?!", he slowly walked towards me and I immediately forgot who I was talking to.

His hand cocked back and slapped me so hard took three steps back, Don't cry. You'll make it worse. He's the type to hit you and get mad that you crying because he doesn't want to see you hurt. Whatever sense that makes.

"Don't you ever, EVER disrespect me in this house. I took yo ass in and I can kick you back out. Take yo stripper money and find you something else. Bitch, the fuck.", he yelled and then sighed. "Aye ma, I'm sorry.". I stayed silent, holding my cheek. "I said I was sorry! Say shit!", he got angry again.

"You're good.", I croaked out.

"Iight good. Look, I'm gone be here for a couple of days so you gone have to hit up that couch for sleep. I'm taking the bedroom.", he looked at me to say something, but I knew I'd have to agree regardless.

"That's fine.". I said it with no emotion.

"Okay, then!", he smiled, "Gone and head to the club and do what you got to."

"Yes, sir."

I walked in my room and grabbed my charger, makeup, and change of clothes. Let's see what happens tonight.