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|Sunday, October 2nd, 2010|
|Chanhassen, Minnesota|
|Paisley Park|
|2:30 pm|
Prince
Today was Lenard's 32nd birthday, and I decided to throw him a nice birthday party at the house with the family and close friends. Since Lenard had been very busy with his career for the past couple of years and still now, it was rare that I ever got to see him. Of course he visited every now and then, along with phone calls, but I missed my nephew dearly. So, luckily, his birthday was the perfect time to spend more time with him and get everyone together for nice quality time. Especially with Michael's passing being more recent as of late, he had been more present, because it was still a hard time for me, him, the twins, and the rest of the family. But, I prayed that this day would bring some kind of releif, and distraction from the pain.
Currently, everyone was at the house. Chatting, reminiscing on the good times and enjoying each other's company while the kids were outside having a ball at the playground I had on one of the gardens. Me, on the other hand was in the kitchen with Michael's mother Katherine, helping her cut up some vegetables to put in the big bowl of salad. As I was cutting up a red pepper, I glanced over at her. After she slid the now cutte up lettuce into the bowl, she glanced over at me as well. We held a peaceful, heartwarming eye contact before I spoke up.
"I'm so grateful to have you and the family here, Mom." I expressed, "I hope it wasn't too much trouble for you all to come fly out to Minnesota."
"We're family, baby." She raises her eyebrow at me, making sure I understood her point, "Anything you need, we'll always be here for you and the kids. Well, even though they're not kids anymore."
I chuckled, "Tell me about it." She was right, and to this day it was hard to believe it; As a parent, even though it's amazing to see your kids grow into something beautiful, it's sad to know that they'll never be little again, because deep down you want them to be young forever. But, they were grown up. Lenard wasn't the same knuckleheaded boy that would blast the west coast classics throughout my house. He was now thirty-two years old, with a wife, six year old daughter and another one on the way. My baby girls, weren't babies anymore. Marhi was also married, with a son and Paisley had just gotten married not too long ago. Montece, and god rest my sweet boy's soul; I know he was looking down on us proudly, and having a ball with Michael up there in heaven since they always had a close relationship since day one. However, it killed me inside that they were no longer here with us.
That's why I was so thankful that the relationship I had with Michael's family didn't change after he passed. Usually, I've heard stories where inlaws cut off all ties with their son or daughters husband-wife's after they passed for certain reasonings that I never understood. So the fact that they were still here for us, was beyond fulfilling.
When I had finally finished cutting the peppers, one of my knuckle headed grandchildren came running into the kitchen, being nosey as usual. Anika, Lenard's daughter, tried putting her hands in the salad and Katherine immediately slapped her hands away.
"Don't touch my salad, lil' girl." Katherine warned. Anika sighed, and crossed her arms; Giving the typical six year old attitude, "But I want some!"
"You better watch your mouth," I remarked. "Now you ask politely like you got some sense."
Anika glared at me, but then quickly fixed her face, plastering a fake smile. She uncrossed her arms, saying in a much happier tone, "Can I have some, please?"
That was Lenard's child, alright. Katherine put the finishing touches on the salad before saying, "Go wash your hands."
Just like that, she darted out of the room, going to the bathroom down the hall. I rolled my eyes, kids. I turned around to see Tatyana, Lenard's wife, walking Jermiah, Marhi's son, over to the counter where all the food laid to help him make his plate. I sighed, face palming my forehead. Her stomach looked like it was two seconds from popping a baby on my kitchen floor. The last thing she needed to do was continue to walk around, she needed to relax. I just knew that little boy used his "adorable " charm that somehow every lady that came across him fell for, including Tatyana, which is why she was helping him make his plate. He was a lil' player already, he was just like his father and Montece.
I walked over to them, putting it to a stop. "Tatyana, I'll help make his plate. You my dear need to sit down and relax."
"Are you sure?" She asks, "It's no problem-"
"I'm sure," I reassured, taking Jermiah's hand. I looked down and glared at him while Tatyana nodded her head, "Okay."
"Bye, Saweetie." Jermiah smoothly said in his four year old voice, and instead of saying sweetie, he went extra with it and said it in a completely different way. Tatyana giggled, slightly waved goodbye to him and turned around. I picked up Jermiah, and raised my eyebrow at him while he looked at me innocently.
"You got your Aunt wrapped around your little finger, huh?" I asked. Jermiah put his hands up in the I don't know expression, pretending like he didn't know what I was talking about. I sighed, shaking my head playfully, then continued to make his plate and sat him at the kid's table, who consisted of some cousins as well as Kobe and Vanessa's daughters, Natalia and Gianna. Kobe was a close friend of Montece's ever since he was drafted to the Lakers in 1999.
After Montece's passing, the Bryant family was one of the many others who showed tremendous support to us, and so many others who were also involved in the NBA. So as a result, they became a family friend.
Not only that, there were so many others who were here at the party as well. All of my bands from the past and the present showed their face, and I mean all of them. From the Grand Central band to the New Power Generation band, and anything after that, you name it, they were there. Also, artists that Michael and I had either worked with in the past, admired or were great friends with was there as well; Mariah Carey, Boys II Men, Whitney Houston, Anita Baker, Sadé, and so many others. Not only that, people that Lenard had worked with in the past from his acting career had showed up too; The cast from Fresh Prince Of Bel Air, Juice, Love & Basketball and so on.
Words couldn't explain how overwhelming with love I felt. After my duties in the kitchen were finished, I left and walked into the life of the party that was happening more throughout the house than it was in the kitchen. You Can't Touch This by MC Hammer plays from the speakers as I walked down the hallway. I chuckled in response, getting a kick out of the story behind this song everytime I hear it. I'll never forget the day when MC Hammer challenged Michael to a dance off in 1991. Michael's reaction to the whole news was priceless, and he didn't mind doing it at first but then he ended up declining it. I was slightly disappointed because I wanted front row seats to see that happened, but I guess everything happens for a reason. However, it was still hilarious.
I continued to walk down the hallway to reach the storage room so I could find some candles for Lenard's cake; I know I should've done so a long time ago, but things got so hectic that I forgot. As I was about to open the door, I heard noise coming from the relaxation room, which is a room I would normally go to if I ever needed a place to think. I raised my eyebrow, stepping away from the door and leaning towards the door where the noise was coming from. I open the door fully to see Lenard, Marhi, and Paisley goofin' off at the piano. Even though I taught them how to play when they were younger, they always had the tendency to mess around anyways when they were all together. I shook my head, taking in the scene in front of me as I leaned on the wall behind me. Some things never change.
"Keep playin' around with the piano, one of y'all is gonna' pay for it." I warn playfully, they all jump, caught of guard from my presence in the room. They all laughed, turning around to look at me as Paisley smirked, "Please, you have the money for it."
"But it ain't comin' out of my pocket," I corrected, "What are you guys doing in here? There is a whole party out there wanting to see and talk to y'all."
They all dropped their goofy smiles and looked at each other in seriousness. I raise my eyebrow, and cross my arms. "What's going on?"
After their secretive looks at each other, Marhi and Paisley both look at Lenard, wanting him to be the first to speak. He sighs, then looks over at me.
"We need to talk to you."
|Monday, September 1st, 1987|
|Crystal, Minnesota|
|Minnesota Recovery Center|
|5:00 pm|
Prince
After an hour of rushing to the Recovery Center, I finally made it. My heart was beating so fast that I could hardly breath, and my hands were gripping the wheel so tight that my palms were sweating. Along the ride, I prayed, and I prayed, and prayed that what I saw on the tape wasn't true. I still kept playing the scene in my head; I couldn't unsee it. My fears were through the roof, and as I pulled up to the building, my fears got even stronger.
The red and blue lights of multiple police cars were practically blinding my view as my car continued to slowly approach the scene, and the siren of the emergency truck was so loud that I felt as if I started talking, I wouldn't be able to hear myself. Then, right before my eyes, I saw the paramedics roll out a lifeless body under a white sheet. My heart dropped, no.
Shivers ran down my spine, and my hands were shaking out of control as I put the car in park; Smack right in the middle of the driveway, but I didn't give a damn. I hop out of the car, and ran right to them before they could slide her into the truck. Voices of policeman and essential emergency workers ordered me to stop as I ran but I ignored them, putting the paramedics to a stop of rolling the body as I cried my heart out, putting my hands on the body.
"Tyka?" I shouted helplessly, not being able to believe that this was real. I cried, and I cried while hiccuping in between; One of the paramedics and two policemen grabbed a hold of one of my arms, trying to get me to back up so they could roll her body in the truck.
"Sir, you must stay back-"
"Get the hell off of me!" I pleaded, trying my best to fight my way out of their hold, "That's my s-sister!" I stuttered, feeling so much grief.
I fought, and fought. When I finally got out of there hold, I turned around, punching the police officer in the face and kicking the paramedic where it hurts. While I was free, I rushed up to the body, snatching the sheet off of her, and there she was. A bullet wound was right in the middle of her forehead, her eyes were wide open and her skin was slowly losing its color. I stood there in shock, and my breathing came to a stop. The crowd--plus the paparazzi who was taking dozens of pictures in the background, were stunned at the scene presented in front of them. I stumbled two steps behind me, and I felt two policemen grab both of my arms, and placing them behind my back, putting the handcuffs on my wrists.
My vision became blurry, I hardly could see anything in front of me; All I saw was a figure putting the policeman to a stop and looking at me with concern.
"Sir," The blurry figure said, "Are you okay?"
Right before I knew it, I fell to the concrete ground with the side of my head making harsh contact with it due to my hands being stuck in hand cuffs. I felt beyond conscious, my head was spinning, and my vision went black.
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|Tuesday, April 1st, 1969|
|Minneapolis, Minnesota|
|539 Newton Ave N.|
|12:00am|
"You're not goin' anywhere, bitch! Do you hear me!" I hear my father shout from my room at my mother. I sigh, with my eyes still closed, trying my hardest to fall back asleep and ignore their screaming.
"Get off of me!" My mother shouted. Then, the next thing I hear is a harsh smack. My eyes shot open, and my heart dropped at the sound of my father hitting my mother. Tears start to form in my eyes, but I hold them back, wanting to be strong but deep down I could no longer take the constant fighting, but, I couldn't do anything about it.
As I sniffled, wiping a tear that managed to escape from my eye I heard a soft knock on the door, and it opened. I turned my body around to see who it was, and my sister was standing there; She held her small pink blanket, showing an emotionally exhausted look on her face.
"I-I can't sleep," She stuttered, sounding like she was going to bust into tears any second, "Can I sleep in your room? Please?"
I sighed, hating to see my baby sister cry. I nodded, scooting over to make room for her. Tyka walked in, closing the door behind her. She then made her way onto the bed, cuddling up to me and putting her face in my chest, crying uncontrollably. I hushed her calmly, and I rubbed circles on her back.
"It's gonna' be alright, sis." I tell her protectively, knowing that I wouldn't let a thing happen to my baby sister.
"I got you."
〰️
|Wednesday, September 3rd, 1987|
|Crystal, Minnesota|
|Crystal Medical Center|
|6:30 am|
The first thing I hear is a very loud, ear piercing beeping sound that wakes me out of my sleep. I stir a little bit, then my eyes flutter a couple times before they finally open. My vision comes back to me fully, and the first thing I see is myself in a white room. I look down to see myself covered in a blanket with a hospital gown on, and I slowly look to my left to see where that beeping sound was coming from--which was the heart monitor, keeping track of the rate.
I wince, a sudden wave of pain clashes with my head. I slowly reach to touch my temple, and noticed a huge bandage was covering it. I was about to lift up my other hand to get a better feel of it, but something was gripping my left hand. I looked down at my hand, and my eyes trailed up to the person who was asleep in the chair next to me, holding onto it for dear life.
Michael.
My eyes welled up with tears, feeling overjoyed with happiness that he was here after not seeing him for awhile. I kicked myself in my head for being so stubborn, why didn't I pick up the phone earlier? God, I missed him so much.
I gripped his hand back even tighter, and shook it a little, hoping he would wake up, "Michael." I whispered, "Baby?"
Michael stirred, groaning a little bit from the heavy nap he took. I chuckled a little bit in response, that was well expected. He wasn't the easiest to wake up. He sat up fully, he blinked a couple of times before he laid his eyes on me. Once he did, Michael gasped, sighing right after in releif and stood up, leaning forward, kissing me right on the lips in excitement.
I held his face, kissing him back in return. The outpouring love was unexplainable, and we were both more than happy to be in each other's touch again. When we broke the kiss, Michael had tears of joy running down his face and smiled brightly as our foreheads leaned against each other's.
"I'm so happy you're here," I say, overfilled with bliss. "Listen, I'm sorry-"
"It doesn't matter. None of that matters now." Michael cuts me off, and caresses my cheek, "That's the last thing I care about. I'm just glad you're okay."
I smile at him sweetly, and we engaged in one more kiss before he sits back down in his seat. He holds my hand tightly, and I stare at him in awe, not being able to take my eyes off of him. This was something great to look at after being unconscious for who knows how long.
"How do you feel?" He asks, very concerned. I chuckle, sitting up a little bit in the bed.
"Lookin' at your fine ass, I feel amazing." I say, looking at him up and down. He could get it right here in this hospital bed. Michael sighed, not finding what I said amusing at all.
"I'm serious, baby." He stressed, now holding my hand with both of his, "Do you remember anything that happened?"
"What do you mean?" I ask, not remembering a think. Now that I think about it, I started to wonder why I was even here and why my head was killing me.
"Wait," I paused, "Why am I here? How long was I out?"
"Three days." Michael informed, I furrowed my eyebrows and looked at him in confusion.
"Why?"
Michael looked down, avoiding eye contact with me for a second before back up with tears in his eyes. He sighs, and then sorrowfully admits, "Tyka passed away."
Just like that, all the memories from that night come back to me. Seeing her lifeless body, the tape, the pain, everything.
Michael continues to explain, "The investagors told me you arrived to the rehab center and ran to get to her. The police tried their best to hold you back but you got out of their hold and saw her body without the sheet. You collapsed while in hand cuffs, and your head made a hard contact with the ground, which explains why you were unconscious for a couple of days."
"The news was all over the media, but I had no idea about it until your assistant called me about the incident. I got the next flight to America as fast as I could to get to you."
I looked at him blankly, not being able to think straight. My baby sister, was dead. I kept replaying the image of her lifeless body over and over again.
"Prince?" Michael asked, kissing the top of my hand. I immediately snatched my hand out of his, and shook my head. Deep down, I knew it was true, I saw it for myself, but I still didn't want to believe it.
"No she's not," I defended. Michael tried to grab my hand once again but I snatched it away.
"Don't touch me, Michael." I warn, and tears start to form in my eyes. Michael's face softens, knowing how much pain I was feeling at the moment, but felt guilty that he couldn't do anything to take it away since it was a reality. He wished he was just joking, but he wasn't.
"Prince-"
"She's not dead!" I yell with tears now streaming down my face. Michael stands up, from his seat, and tries to lay down in the empty spot next to me in the bed. I start cry hardly, beating on his chest, telling him to leave me alone and continuing to be in denial but I soon melted into his hold, holding him tightly, sobbing harshly as he held me back just as tight.
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