Celiné

Chapter 2.

I walked back downstairs to the lobby and just as I was about to walk out, a lady stopped me.

"Sir, we're advising all of our guests to stay." She spoke while adjusting her glasses. "The rain has gotten heavier and it's just not safe for anyone to leave."

"You serious?" I kissed my teeth. "Aight, I already got my card being billed to a room so can y'all just gon' head and give me anotha room?"

"Unfortunately, we don't have anymore rooms available." She spoke.

"Then why y'all tellin' folks ta' stay hea' if there ain't no mo' rooms?" I frowned.

"Because everyone we told to stay
already has a room." She looked up at me before walking away.

I shook my head and walked back up to the room.

Celiné
After changing into the clothes that the man bought for me, I brushed my teeth and pinned my hair up before going to lay down. I knew I wasn't going to be able to sleep because I'm worried about my son. I pray that he's okay.

His father was known to have really bad anger issues, but not to the point where he'd kick me out in the middle of a storm.

There was a knock at the door, startling me a bit. I opened the door and I seen the tall man again.

"You're back?" I looked up at him. "Did you forget something?"

"Nah, they not lettin' folks leave 'til the storm pass." He walked pass me.

I closed and locked the door back and watched him sit on the other bed.

"So uhm..." I played with my fingers before sitting down. "What's your name?" I looked at him as he tapped on his phone.

"August." He said, very blandly.

I smiled before laughing a little. "Okay, August." I giggled. "I'm September."

He looked up from his phone. "You got jokes, huh?"

"You've got to be kidding. Nobody names their child something so silly."

"I'd love ta' hear ya say 'dat ta my momma. What's ya' name guh'."

"Celiné. I'm sorry for the joke."

"You not the first to do it."

"And I know I'm most definitely not the last." I sat down.

"So you said your husband-.."

"Baby's father." I corrected him. "I don't want to talk about him."

"I don't eitha' - I was just gon' ask ya whea' you gon' go tomorra'." I looked at him as his accent became thick.

His accent wasn't so plain like the other New Orlean dudes, his just sounded so.. sexy.

"I-I don't know." I shook my
head. "I'll probably take a bus to my mother's home."

"What about ya son?" He spoke with a hint of sympathy in his voice.

"My mother will help me get him back. This isn't the first this has happened."

"Then why you still wit' him?"

"I just said I don't wanna talk about him." I cut my eyes at him.

"Aight, my bad." He put his hands up in surrender before taking off his black shades. "You hungry?" He asked me while picking up the hotel phone.

"Yea, what all do they have?" I picked up the menu next to the phone and looked through the choices.

"You ain't neva' been hea' befo'?"

"No..."

"Just to be on the safe side, get the tenders." He chuckled. "You can't just go ta' new places tryin' new shit."

I laughed a little bit and nodded my head. "Just get me tenders then."
-
After we ate, he had brushed his teeth and everything before taking his butt
fast to sleep. I wasn't tired at all, I wanted to talk with him more but I could tell he was really tired, plus he probably thinks I'm some delusional hobo.

I cut the tv off and got up under the soft blankets. I laid my head down on the pillow and stared out the slightly open window as the rain came down.

I wonder what my baby boy is doing. I closed my eyes and I felt tears starting to form.

I sniffed before wiping my eyes. I sat up and moved my hair out of my face.

"You aight?" I heard August speak.

"I-I'm fine." I wiped the tears off my cheeks.

I heard him get out of bed, feeling a dip in my bed.

"Hea'." He handed me the box of tissues.

"Thank you." I sniffed before drying my eyes. "I'm sorry for waking you up, I-.."

"You was thinkin' bout ya' son huh?"

I nodded my head. "I hope he's not in any danger. I left him with the devil and I know I wouldn't be able to live with myself if something happens to
him."

"I don't know how you was raised, but my momma taught me ta' pray when it comes to situations like 'dis." He looked at me.

"Your mom isn't wrong." I smiled a bit before sniffing. I shifted a bit before closing my eyes.

Lord Jesus Christ, I place myself at the foot of your cross and ask you to cover me and my son, Chad with your precious blood which pours forth from
your most holy wounds. I ask you to block any plans the enemy has. Cleanse me, my Jesus, in the living water that flows from your heart. I ask you to surround me, Lord Jesus, with your holy light.
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