[Author's Note: I will no longer use VEED.IO since there's been issues going on with it behind the screen. Enjoy the chapter though due to this change. In the future, I'll find another audio software like VEED.IO till then.]
I held my breath for as long as possible, letting the lukewarm water brush against my skin. This tight feeling in my chest grows each second my body floats. The deep sound of bubbles prevents my ears from hearing any other sound in the ocean. I open my eyes, finding myself surrounded by the ocean of all its blue atmosphere. An ocean without its wonderful sea animals made it appear naked.
Above me, a bright white light radiates through the surface. Lifting my head, I circulate my arms to swim out of the ocean and move toward the light. My legs kick each second I reach closer to the surface.
My eyes open to the streams of rain pounding lightly against the head of the car. Immediately, I checked for reality when I touched my green jacket and legs. They were no longer wet. There goes my day of crawling back into my head, dreaming away. Although, being awakened to the rain's sound isn't too bad.
I turn to the grayish sky, leaning closer to the car window to observe it. Water trickled down from the sky like fairy dust, drenching my Dad's car. Watching the rain is a pleasant sight to close my eyes and listen to the rhythmic sound. I placed my hand on the glass window, closing my eyes to do that. Speaking of sound, there weren't those light beats that typically come from the rain.
Opening my eyes, a few thin raindrops halted, leaving tiny drops sticking against the glass. I shifted my eyes from the raindrops and focused on the fast-moving cars passing by on the road. The traffic light stayed on red, but in another direction, cars were zooming through. As the light switched to green, Dad drove in a straight line with the other cars beside us.
"Honey, are you okay over there?" Dad asked. "Were you dreaming? I'm sorry, I bothered—"
"No, Dad," I told him, cutting him off. I turned my face away from the car window and met his eyes. "It's okay. You did not bother me."
"Okay," he said, a smile forming on his lips. "Good. What was your dream about?"
I exhaled, my nose pushing air out. "I found myself floating in the ocean, alone in the dark. I opened my eyes first and saw this light shining through the surface. And the next thing I know, I'm swimming towards it."
"Oh, really?" Dad asked, curious to hear more.
"Yes," I said, nodding my head. "I am not sure about the meaning behind it. But you know how dreams are. It's whatever."
Dad's eyes widen, surprised at my answer. "Sasha, you do not need to say that!"
I chuckle a little, smiling at Dad's sudden interest in my dream.
"Maybe God's giving you a message," he stated, interpreting the dream. "Like His light drawn you out of the darkness. Maybe God's telling you that He is right there."
Hearing his interpretation, I won't say he is right or wrong. My dream could mean any other thing than God involved. How can I break that to him without sounding offensive or putting down his interpretation? A light bulb flickered in me—now I have something to say.
"Dad, you are half right. But it can mean anything else."
"That's alright, Sasha," he replied. "Honey, you can believe your interpretation of your dream. Don't worry about mine, but God giving us dreams is scripture."
I thought of the story of Joseph confirming it—a story in the Bible where he had dreams of saving Egypt from drought. Dad isn't wrong about that. Sometimes, having dreams doesn't have to be from God.
I face the car window, taking in his response. "Dad, I know that. But a dream can randomly pop up in my head for no reason, without holding any significance."
My eyes shifted to the windshield, watching the traffic light switch to green. All cars slowly drive forward on the road. I sighed, taking my eyes off the windshield. Facing the car window, I meet my reflection. On the glass, the unmovable raindrops stayed still. I moved my eyes away, returning my gaze to Dad.
"Sasha, you're right about that. Dreams can be that way for the most part," he said.
With Dad's foot on the accelerator pedal, the car picked up again. On the way home, Dad parked in the driveway near his police car. Through the car window, I gulped, seeing the sight of Grandma Chioma sitting on the step tread of the front porch.
I glance at the folded white paper resting near the side of my thigh. Reaching for it, I unfolded the paper and stared at a picture of twenty-something-year-olds smiling, holding their books where they are in a frozen walking pose on campus. I lower my eyes to continue reading the college flyer. Those paragraphs about how good the university is did not pique my interest. I scrunch my eyebrows, gripping the paper tightly to wrinkle it into a ball. It dropped from my hand and landed on the black floor.
"What am I going to tell her?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. Dad's hand rests on my shoulder, my eyes meeting him to give him a concerned glance.
"You can say you don't know and will decide later," he replied. "There's no rush going to college if you are not ready."
I sighed, leaning my back against the car seat. "Okay..."
I watch Dad move out of the car and hurry to my side to open the door for me. He gently pulled the car door, trying not to make any scratches on his precious black Mercedes G-Wagon. I hopped off my seat and walked with Dad toward the front porch.
Grandma Chioma had her gray-wrapped scarf covering her hair. She shook a little when she gathered herself off the steps. Grandma Chioma approached, her cane tapping against the concrete.
"How was it?" she asked.
I lift my face to meet Dad's eyes. He gave me a nod, wanting me to speak first. I opened my mouth to confess, but I shut that down and quickly closed my lips. Gently, I nudged my elbow toward Dad's arm. When I did that, a small chuckle escaped his lips. He cleared his throat as his eyes landed on Grandma Chioma. "The lady from Towson saw her potential for college admission, but Sasha is not interested. However, the meeting went well."
College isn't in the cards for me, what I'd say to her, but I couldn't bear to stare at the look of disappointment in her eyes. I sensed Grandma Chioma's death stare the moment I walked past her.
I stepped inside without a second thought after Dad opened the door.
Entering the living room, the first thing I do is rush to the light brown chaise couch. I lie flat on it with my head pressed against my hoodie. My back rests on the soft cushion that embraces me.
As I sit up, my golden retriever—Ritchie, jumps up from the floor and lands on my lap. I raked his yellowish fur through my fingers. He exhales rapid breaths while rubbing his back where I reach his rib cage in his fluff.
"Sasha!"
Oh no, here comes the talk.
Grandma Chioma sat beside me and placed her cane on the couch's armrest. I watched her rub her dress, flattening the wrinkles. Following that, Grandma Chioma turned her head to give her undivided attention to me.
"Sasha, Sasha, Sasha," she says, shaking her head sideways. "Why act stupid in front of something that will satisfy your future?!" Grandma Chioma asked, scrunching her eyebrows.
I tighten my fist, slowly furrowing my eyebrows. I shot Grandma Chioma a glare, disagreeing with her immensely. "Can we not do this today? I don't want to have this talk!"
Ritchie leaps off my lap when I raise my voice, startled. He retreats to the carpet floor, where he rests his belly. I returned my furrowed eyebrows to Grandma Chioma after Ritchie caught me off guard from his timid reaction.
"I don't wanna hear anything from that mouth of yours!" Grandma Chioma demanded, pointing her finger at me. "Finding something that will gravitate to your well-being is important!" She tightened her fist like her words meant power.
"And if I don't?" I questioned, crossing my legs.
Grandma Chioma stared at me as if I had shot her. I need to turn this conversation around fast before she gets the wrong idea. However, it always backfires without expecting it.
My back cracks once I try to sit straight, looking presentable to Grandma Chioma, determined to stand my ground. I folded my hands together to perfect my professional posture. "Wasn't Bill Gates a college dropout?"
"Are you Bill Gates?" she asked, squinting her eyes.
"No," I told her.
Ouch, I'm out of options after the comeback did not work. I want to convince her of a good reason for me not to go to college, but I know she will not let that go. Grandma Chioma paused for a moment to come up with something. I don't know what, but it better be worth my time.
"What about being a Criminal justice lawyer?" she asked.
I will not in a million years, defend a person who murdered innocents. Tough cases like those should be left to the professionals.
"No, not interested." I rested my cheek on the palm of my hand, anticipating another question to waste my time.
"A doctor?" Grandma Chioma asked, leaning closer toward me. Her lips stretched out to form a wide smile.
I respect patients who are sick, but I don't see myself as that positional leader for them. "Nope."
After an hour, none of the jobs she mentioned interested me. Question after question, I can't handle it. I struck my fist on the couch's armrest. "Grandma, I already have a job!" I said, snapping at her.
"Sasha, don't raise your tone at me!" Grandma Chioma snapped back, pointing her finger at me. "You need to think about your future beyond being a waitress at that junk food place," she added.
"Texas Roadhouse," I corrected her.
"Whatever," she said, raising her hand in front of my face.
Well, she's got a point.
"Sasha-" Grandma Chioma's words cut off when she twists her head to the kitchen. A piercing squeal comes from the stove, where water boils harshly in the steel kettle pot. The steam shoots up when Grandma Chioma rushes to turn the stove off.
At the same time, I sit back to ponder about our conversation. Should I consider college? I'm not sure. It's too late for me now. But I need a goddamn break from hearing Grandma Chioma's endless discussions about it.
The light smack of footsteps disrupts my thoughts as the sound draws closer, forming a squeak. I lift my head to see Dad coming from the foyer. He wore his black flip-flops, holding a wrapped newspaper in his hand. Dad gently throws it in my direction, which lands on the brown wooden table before me. I looked closer to see it wasn't a newspaper he was holding. It was something similar.
Just before peaking at the tabloid, lemon tea draws a lingering smell in my nose when Grandma Chioma returns from the kitchen. She places her white coffee mug down and picks up the tabloid. Her eyebrows furrowed twice more, furious at what she was reading. She sucks her teeth to showcase her disgust.
"They are saying stuff, again..." Dad said, lowering his head. I watch him put his hands in his pockets, bending his neck. His smile didn't light up the room like usual, except his smile faded from his lips. Grandma Chioma blocked my view of him when she shoved the tabloid to my face to feast my eyes on. She places her finger at the big headline: "LEGENDARY SINGER, MARIE HAS A DRUG PROBLEM & THE LAWRENCE FAMILY ARE SILENT!"
"You see this?" she asked urgently, pointing her finger at the title.
Below the headline was a woman of a dark brown complexion coming out of a building at night, where the glass double doors behind her reveal people mingling inside. They were sitting at bar tables, so I'm guessing she left the bar. In the picture, she uses her hand to shield her face from the bright camera flashes taken by the paparazzi.
I grabbed the tabloid from Grandma Chioma since I couldn't keep my eyes off her. She was beautiful, knowing she was my mother. The wind had blown her long jet-black curls while she kept her leather black handbag close to her shoulder. From the camera's closeup on her, she rocked in a wrap dress that reached her knees. She wore a long grey trench coat along with it. Her dress matched the color of her black shoulder bag.
Mom was a fashionista, standing out in any outfit of hers. I diverted my gaze from her and focused on Grandma Chioma staring at me.
"I want you to go on with your life without these idiots on the paper making us feel shameful for what your mother did to herself," she continued. "Your father and I are protecting you from this nonsense, Sasha. I want you to go to college and live a normal life!" Grandma Chioma emphasized, stressing the importance of her words.
Hearing her response, I drop the tabloid on the table. I scoffed at her words and questioned, is she being for real right now?
"You don't want me to end up like Mom?" I asked sharply, crossing my arms.
A warm sensation forms on my hand. I lifted my head to see Dad grab my hand to hold as he sat beside me. "Honey, don't..." Dad mouthed by his lips.
The silence from Grandma Chioma was her response. As soon as I mentioned Mom, my eyes were about to start the waterworks. Tears hadn't come out yet, but crying was the last thing on my mind. I did not want Grandma Chioma to shun me for doing so.
I dropped my eyes to the floor instead of making eye contact with Grandma Chioma. No, fuck that. I turned to face her head on—rather than be a coward.
"Look, I'm not going to do anything stupid that'll put me in the headlines," I said, sniffing a little. "You know me, Grandma. I...I-I can't do this right now."
I exhaled deeply and got up from my seat. The next thing I did was walk out of the living room. I walked to the foyer, eager to go to my room. As the light burning sensation started, I used my knuckle to wipe a tear out of my eye. When I pressed my hands against the railing of the stairs, Grandma Chioma's thundering footsteps broke the quiet tension. I closed my eyes, wishing she would leave me alone.
"Sasha, come back down here. We are not done!" Grandma Chioma cried out, urging me.
That wish couldn't be granted. I slowly turn around to see Dad standing behind her. His eyebrows raised when I looked at him. He gave me a worried look, but I did not let my eyes stay on his longer. Grandma Chioma was beside him, thus causing my heart to flutter in my chest.
"We are done! Okay?" I snapped at her, putting my foot down.
She gave me one final look and gave up, not saying anything else. Grandma Chioma diverted her focus to the living room, walking away from the foyer area. I turned away from Dad and continued walking upstairs.
I entered the hallway, walking toward my room at the end. My heart beat at a regular pace when I touched my chest. I stopped to take a deep breath and continued my path. My eyes landed on a white door with red hearts and pink bow stickers, including "The Powerpuff Girls" and "Barbie" title logos. The door slowly opened as I met eyes with a dark brown curly-haired girl. I raised an eyebrow, seeing my little sister staring at me.
"What?" I replied harshly.
"She didn't punish you?" she asked curiously.
I shrugged my shoulders as my response. What else could I say?
Mia's stare was on me once I left her gaze. I continued my path toward my room after I took another step. My foot comes into contact with a soft but solid object. I looked down, discovering I stepped on a stuffed lion with black button eyes.
"Girl!" I whispered, rolling my eyes. I grabbed the thing to give to her, making my way to her door. She opens the door wider to take her stuffed lion from my hand. I leaned closer to plant a kiss on her forehead and walked away.
I used the back of my foot to kick the door backward when entering my room. The door creaked, closing itself shut. I lowered my head to look at my red sneakers. Man, I forgot to take them off. I unraveled the white knots and kicked them off my feet near the door. They landed upside down, where the shoes did not make a perfect standing position on foot. I wiggled my arms so my jacket could fall off my shoulders. It did when the light fabric touch left me. When my jacket landed on the floor, I picked it up to put my hoodie on the headrest of my black task chair.
I glimpsed at a picture frame of five-year-old me and my mother. Her big jet-black curly hair stood out in the picture while snowflakes surrounded her. Mom smiled with her pearly white teeth visible to the camera. I raised my hands high, catching snow as Mom held my waist. Looking back at my younger days, those were the good times.
By the picture frame, I noticed my hardcover dark green notebook on my desk once I sat in my black task chair. I touch the leather fabric of my notebook, staring at the blank cover. I opened it, ready to put my thoughts into words.
I tapped on the back of my pen after I grabbed one, struggling to find words to say on the blank page. Then, I decided to write what was on my mind rather than stress about writing my thoughts down perfectly.
AUGUST 15TH, 2011
TIME: 5 PM
"DEAR DIARY, I don't think she will put college to rest anytime soon. Especially her giving me a reason why I should go that's been hard to admit for the past two years. That was holding me back, the lies Mom had in the papers. Although the drug problem wasn't, I don't want people to bully me because of something I can't control. Besides, the only time I was in the headlines was attending the Grammys at age three for Mom. From there, my whole family and I would attend another to support Mom when I turned seventeen. Only once. The next thing we do is crawl back to our private lives.
That café meeting with the professor from Towson could've gone better. But...that makes me cringe thinking about it. Luckily, Dad would chime in to defend me when he told her I wasn't sure. The lady, oh her, completely dismisses my doubt and goes on about how important college is. Hearing him defend me makes me wish I had said something different to appease her. Writing all of this makes my head hurt. I'll go play some tunes."