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"symere, come down here and wash these fucking dishes!" my "gracious" mother yelled from downstairs, interrupting my conversation with the groupchat that i didn't want to be in, but i'm only there for the memes.

i groan, making my way downstairs, mumbling some smart shit, but not too loud because, just because.

my momma sat at the kitchen table, and the smell of weed lingered throughout the kitchen.

the plan was to ask her if i can go out, and i already know the answer. and i accept that.

"mama," i turned my attention towards her, watching her lick the strawberry-flavored blunt.

"what symere?" she spat, "yo' ass always blowing my high."
i breathed in, back to focusing my attention on washing the dishes.

"can i go out?" i asked, hoping that she would be a non-strict parent for once, and let loose.

"do you not realize that it's a school night?" she lit the blunt, before going ahead and smoking away.

"i know mama, but i never go out! and, all my friends are going to be at this fair." i defended my case, and by "all my friends," i meant, me and jordan.

"boy, don't you ever raise yo voice at me." she spat, continuing to smoke, "and, ion want my baby to fall in any habits." she kissed my cheek.

when my mom says no, don't ask her again because she'll , and i quote, "punch you in yo' fucking mouth."

"ok mama," i sighed, and i finally finished washing them nasty-ass dishes.

"anyways, i'm going out, and i probably won't be back untill tomorrow." she stood, dusting off her black, short dress.

oh, she can go out but i can't?

ugh i can't wait untill i turn 18.

wait, nevermind. i don't wanna take care of responsibilities!

"i'll be calling ya phone every hour to make. sure yo ass at home. i want yo sneaky-ass to go out, and watch what happens," she threatened, before kissing my cheek.

"bye mama, i love you." i sent a fake-smile her way, watching her close the front-door.

i ran back upstairs, grabbing my phone, before dialing jordan's number.

"hey sy', i'm getting r-"

"i can't go." i broke the news, sighing dramatically.

"fuck you mean, "you can't go?" he mocked me, making a pout form on my face.

"stop mocking me, and i asked my mom. and, she made a big deal about it." i sat on my bed, swinging my legs back and forth to keep myself occupied.

"fuck all that, i'm on my way right now. is your mom home?" he asked, and you could hear keys jingling on the end of the line.

"no, but don't be showing up to my house randomly jordan."

you could here the ignition starting.

"bitch, i'm not pl-."

he really hung up on me.

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