"What's your opinion on love, Phatima?"Mr. Johnson surveyed the class asking everyone the same question. My mind trampled off into other things the ticking of the analog clock echoed through my distracted head. I prayed that the bell would ring before the spotlight enlarged on me.
"Jhenea, what is your opinion on love?"Mr Johnson asked he seemed very interested in what I was going to say being the fact I was the only that caught on with what was being taught. I silently cursed keeping the urge of rolling my eyes to a minimum.
"Love,"I mumbled to myself "I feel like there is no love"I stated honestly with my posture slightly slouched.
"And why do you feel this way?"He seemed infatuated with the amount of blutness I offered. His finger nails tapped the wooden desk that was being supported by the metal poles that held the structure together. He awaited my answer as if he had all day to sit and wait.
I glanced my orbs over to the clock as the long hand adjusted over to the six, meaning three more minutes of class.
"Because love is non existent. The word itself should be erased from all knowledge. Love shouldn't be used because anyone can love something drugs, clothes, gifts, anything."I eloborated. "If your so call 'love' for some one is real and as strong as you claim, I feel like it wouldn't be described by a small and vague four letter word" Ending my statement the bell rung completely after.
I speedily got up from my seat throwing my side bag across my shoulder. I kept my head hanging low as my body guided the way rushing me out the door of the classroom.
Scrambling through the hall ways kids kept the passage ways busy as a working bee hive. Conversations were being made accross the hall by illiterate dudes along with girls with no morals. Students were pushing through the crowded hallways rushing to make seats on the school bus or to simply get out of the swamp of students that was slowly increasing by the moment.
Placing my books in my locker I carefully locked and secured my locker for the weekend from these troubled teenagers.
Averting my head back, I seen Mr Johnson coming my way. I quickly rush through the crowd of students losing him in the mix. Siding with the fact I didn't want to have my weekly conversation with Mr Johnson I began my original route home.
My black vans hit the concrete sidewalk with every step I took causing a step by step sound pattern. I kept my head high watching my surroundings. I've always kept watching my surrounding in mind after watching Ms Renolds pursed get snatched right under her arm. Even though I don't carry anything with much value, I still try my best to avoid that type of situation.
My restless body followed my aching legs as I continued the ten block walk home. My box braids swayed from side to side with each and every step hitting my rear every so often. The zippers of my back pack jingled as my walking caused a slight shake to it.
My palms began to grow sweaty as I reached my most feared blocks that were on my way to and from school. Dopeboys that called themselves men stood posted on each and every corner selling soon to be addicts and addicts illegal substances that were slowly destroying their lives.
I picked up the pace of my walking not making any eye contact with anyone. I wrapped my sweaty palms around the straps of my bookbag along with my out to date Betsy Johnson side bag. Although it was out of style I still kept it up to my standards making it look like I bought it just yesterday.
I recieved cat calls as I adjusted my tight fitting distressed jean overall that I let hang on to my thighs. My black V-neck tucked inside, showed my maturing figure. 16 going on 17 , I dressed like this because this is what my cousin Kashari thinks is in. Because her family is my only source of necessities, I have to deal with her style of clothing.
"Honey biscuit!"I heard someone call. I averted my head and that direction and noticed Malcom. I should've known, he's the one who generated the awful nickname for me. I guess he's out of jail because I hadn't heard that illiterate nickname for a little over five months.
"Yes Malcom."I rolled my eyes.
"You aint' gone tell yah' man welcome back?"He licked his lips that sat under his nose completing his handsome face. His black Asfalt hat sat backwards above his neatly done braids. He was really the only guy I've seen to pull of the whole '08 conrow thing.
"Actually, I'm not. You weren't missed"I rolled my eyes firmy to the sky. I redirected trying to continue to walk my route back home but he prevented me by having his grasp on my arm. My body instantly tensed up. My anger and adrenaline began to pump as I jerked my arm away from his dry hands.
"Honey bis-"He tried to speak but, I rudely cut him off.
"Don't you ever put your filthy hands on me again. You have no right to do that, I am not at your possesion. Everyday you come to speak to me you push your limits more and more but this is the final straw. "He seemed flabbergasted by my choice of words. I can see why, I'm not much of a talker so this being my first outburst with him, he's shocked.
"Damn, lil' mama."He held his hands up in defense.
"I'm not your little mama or your honey biscuit. Call me by my name or dont talk to me at all."
"Ight damn ma' whats yah' name?"He raised a brow.
"Maybe you'll get that another day"I re-adjusted my backpack before continuing my trek home.
Stopping at an intersection cars swished past due to a green light. I stood patiently next to the light post that stood in the center of the cemented sidewalk. The road light finalized turning red causing all drivers to step on their brakes putting their vehicles at rest for a moment. The signal for pedestrians flashed as I took initiative to walking across the crosswalk.
Arriving at my block I let out a relieving sigh. My feet were killing me and the only thing that I could wrap my mind around is elevating my sore feet onto fluffy feather and cotton filled pillows.
I rush up the steps wincing in pain on each step. I silently cursed whishing that I never wore those running shoes- that happened to be two times smaller than my original size. Dressing out in PE isn't mandatory, but I perfer to continuisly get straight A's.
I hurried and rang the door bell hoping that aunt April would put some pep in her step. I leaned against the threshold of the the closed door waiting , finally aunt April opens up with a warming smile.
"Hey baby"She kissed my forehead pulling me into a hug as she let me enter the house. The smell of collard greens and baked chicken invaded my nostrils. I marveled at the scent and scenery aunt April created in the kitchen.
"Ah ah ah, you have to wait till dinner " She slaps my hand with a wipe rag that sat on her shoulder.
I sigh in defeat "Who are we having over anyways?"My aunt April only goes all out like this when she's having guest over so guest were expected when she cook an abundance of things as such.
"Social worker"she mumbles with a slight roll to her eye.
I sigh "She's back again? I thought you said that we were in the clear. She said we were good!"I complained as much as I love being my aunt and uncle's custody, the things that prevent me from being happy always comes to be. Our social worker
Mrs.Paxen imposes me from being officially under my aunt and uncle's custody with her obnoxious pop ups and unnecessary talks with me that I can really care less for. She's a pain in the ass all together and for her to be able to hold the advantage of putting me in a foster home she definitely has the upper hand.
Her voice rings inside my head "We have to do what is best for Jhenea and I dont think you guys having custody of her is best."Clearly she doesn't know what she's talking about. I'm taken cared of as if I'm their own child . She says all these things about whats better for me but clearly she doesn't even know what the fuck her mouth is spewing.
"I know J , but just think about it after this one you'll be 17 and that'll be less visits from that Paxen bitch."I laughed at the cruelty towards Paxen.
"You got that right auntie."I laughed kissing her cheek. I head to the room I shared with Kashari. Her side of the room exploded with different designs and posters of fashion designers and celebrities while my side held two mangled photos of my unknown parents and I .
One picture showed me smiling ear to ear as I held my hands up enjoying the thrilling feeling of the swing swinging back and forth while my mother stood behind me grinning as well. And the other was one of me and my father, I was sitting high on his shoulder smiling as he held his strong masculine unphased face.
"Hey pooch."Kashari greeted me as she sat indian style in front of the floor to ceiling mirror that we shared. Hair products sat before her as she applied small amounts of gel to lay her baby hair in front of her chunky havana twist.
"Hello Kash."I greeted her as well "Why didn't you meet me on 24th like you always do. You know I had to face Malcom all by myself."I pouted as I grabbed my sketch book off of the pile of shoe boxes that were bought during the time of tax return.
"I got caught up with helping my mom cook dinner plus Darod has come back into town so I was pretty busy."She explained to me. Darod was Kashari's on and off boyfriend like one of the many street pharmacist he's been in and out of jail a few times causing Kashari and his relationship to be left on the rocks. I personally don't think Darod is the right one for Kashari, although she's a hot head she really has a good head on her shoulders and I feel like she's to good for this Darod character.
I sigh "I whish you would've met with me though, Malcom has one more time before I smack the braids off of him." I rant as I sit indian style as well on my twin sized bed.
"Awe, my little Mal is out of jail."She smiled widely.
I roll my eyes to the ceiling down "What did he do to have him thrown in there in the first place?" Malcom is known for doing dumb shit around here last time he got arrested for spitting directly in a police officers face. With how much police brutality going on, I'm suprised he didn't end up six feet under. He says he was standing up for black rights but in reality he knows that he should have his limits and trying to get yourself killed is definitely pushing your limits.
"Word out on the block, he got arrested for burglary and possession of weed."She explained to me.
"Typical"I roll my eyes "And he thinks he has a chance with me"I scoff, "Hilarious. "
"You guys would be cute together though, Mal and Jen."She suggested out loud as if I had nothing against it.
"More like hell and no"I declined "Besides, I'm way to mature for his infantile ways. I'm pretty sure I'm not going to fall for a dude who thinks standing on a block is a job."
"I mean every one has their own hustle." Kashari shruggs.
"I guess your right but I still don't think standing on a block is a good profession for any one. Handing out drugs to people who's life is already going down hill is just dumb."I rant. All through New Orleans theres only three things that guys think that can get them to riches, music, sports and of course drugs. Many guys decide to go with drugs because it's fast money . I don't condone that at all, I feel like if Malcom puts his mind to it he'll be able to successed without selling dope.
"Just don't fall for no ordinary street nigga"
I chuckle amusingly"Trust me I won't"