𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑻𝑹𝑶𝑳

❦ 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑬𝑬 ❦

I hopped in my black BMW and made my way to my therapist. When I got to Atlanta, at first I tried to deal with my mental health on my own, but that backfired on me after 2 weeks and I had to find someone.

When I got to the her office, Dr. Davis, was sitting there with her legs crossed. She was an average looking red head with small glasses. Though she looked only about ten years older, she wasn't my type.

"Good afternoon, Mar. How are you today?"

"I'm good, you?"

"Great thanks for asking! Okay, so let's get right into this. On a scale of one to ten how bad has your anger effected you since our last session?" She took out her note pad.

"Um bout a 5."

"Okay, so it's went down. What have you been doing different recently?"

"I've been counting more often and that's helped a lot, doc."

We talked about ways I could calm myself down and some more of my triggers before she relaxed a bit. Davis was my favorite therapist so far.

"So, whats happened with you and Maya? Anyone new?" She leaned forward.

"Doc, she was tryna trap me. Like get me to get her pregnant." Davis bulged her eyes out her head.

"You don't want that, right? You said she was a 'treesh'."

I actually laughed at doc.

"Yea, I did cause she is. She's the last person I would want to have my kids. And there's no one new but I met a girl, and she seems like she'll be a cool person to hang with sometimes." I thought about Ali.

"Ooooh, do tell more."

"We met at the gas station, and we talked about which flavors of woods we liked. Yesterday, I saw her and her friend there again." I explained the rest to her.

"So you're worried about her being weirded out by you? Absolutely, bonkers!"

I know this bitch did not just say bonkers. I'm finna use that.

"Did she seem weirded out?"

"No but-"

"Mar, I've already told you to stop overthinking and being so critical of yourself. From what you've told me, it seems like she's liking the beginning of your friendship as well."

This was why I fucked with Dr. Davis. She always made me looks at stuff a different way and I wasn't afraid to talk to her. Ali was curious yesterday, not weirded out.

"Yea, you right."

On my way out, I called Jay telling him to come outside.

When I got back, Jay was standing on the curb with a duffel bag.

"You needa drive faster next time. Had me standing outside looking like a damn hitch hiker! I was on facetime giving someone a thumbs up and some old white man stopped right in front of me."

"Shouldn't of had your thumb up while standing on the curb." I shrugged.

"Anyways, lemme guess. We bout to hit up Slick spot?"

"Yessirrr. I let him get away with trying to fuck with me for too long, so I'm bout to light his shit up and dip. Ion care what happens after cause I already told that bitch ass nigga."

"Period pooh."

"Jay-" I turned my head from the road to look this nigga in his eyes.

"I ain't even say nothing."

A few minutes later, we were pulling at Slick's house. This dumbass ran half of his shit out the place he slept. Couldn't be me.

As we drove by Jay stuck his glock out the window, sending countless shots to the green building, and I did the same with my free hand.

"I missed doing shit like that." I smirked.

That lowkey let out a bunch of my pent up anger. I was a monk now.

We arrived back home and I pulled out some of my notes to study from. I was majoring in business because I wanted to leave the streets behind and fend for myself. I didn't want my kids to have to go through the same things I did.

A lot of my problems were caused by my parents though, because who pretends their kid doesn't exist? When they finally did realize I had to be taken care of, I was put into foster care. I still kept in contact with my grandma though. She felt guilty about not doing what she should have.

But, even if I wasn't put into foster care, I still would've had an unfit mother and a deadbeat father. All I knew was, my kids wouldn't get that. They'd get love and care.