Melanin Queen

Seeing her talk about D, her facial expression changed quickly. She was hurting bad and it only made me want to fuck shit up.

"How you holding up ma'?" I asked her. I was really concerned about her well being. I knew she wasn't going to tell me the truth tho.

"Boy I'm fine! You see me. I'm good." She smiled. She was all over the kitchen. Once she was done with one thing she went to the next.

I didn't ask her more about it. I'm just going to give her time, she's gonna' come around sooner or later. She made me a plate and just vibe'd out with me for a little while.

🌟 S T E P H A N I E

I was at the ending of my therapy session for the day and it was better than usual, there was some hope that I would be back to normal again, only if I push myself above my limits.

"Good job today, Stephanie." My therapist, Rachel said excitedly.

"Thanks, Rach." I gave a half smile.

Even though I was progressing little by little, I was still salty about the fact that I still wasn't the same as before the shooting and to top it all off my cousin was dead.

Ever time I think about that time I can only picture Armani's face. That bitch was gonna' get it. I don't care how, I don't care when. She messed with the wrong bitch family and she definitely had to be dealt with.

"I'm so proud of you babe," Armanda cheered, she made sure I got to my therapy sessions on time and never left. She cheered me on every time I completed a task that my instructor insisted I do, then when it was time to go she took me home.

She was really my best friend, I loved her so much cause she never gave up on me. There wasn't much people like her and I was so thankful for her.

"Thank you friend." I smiled. She helped me with my things as I pushed myself in the wheelchair towards the door.

As we was leaving out someone was coming in, it was a man, a man that looked awfully familiar.

It was like I seen a ghost and I wanted to go run and hide but for one; I couldn't run, and for two; there was no reason to. What I really wanted to do was get up and kiss him and tell how much I missed him but I couldn't do that neither.

"Bando?" I said unsure if I was seeing right.

"Steph? Damn what's up, you good?" He asked noticing I was in a wheelchair, looking crippled as hell.

I nod my head not really wanting to talk about it, "so how you been, what you doing here anyway?"

Curious to know cause his ass didn't look crippled to me, in fact he looked in perfect shape.

Bando was so fine to me. He was a straight up Latino, but proudly acted black, which I didn't have no problem with. He grew up in Brooklyn and definitely had that street nigga mentality.

His real name was Rick, but street name of course Bando. He weighed 158 pounds and standing at a average 5'8. He wasn't that y'all but he was tall enough for my short ass.

"I've been good and I just came by to take.. my girl out to lunch.." he stated, but you can tell he didn't want to bring that part up.