CHAPTER SIX
Lonely bitch…dick stuntin’…sac garglin’…lettin’ no-good nigga’s run all up in ’er back…gotta bitch wildin’ out like she’s stuck on crack…got ’er chasin’ fake muhf*ckas who ain’t tryna get caught…got da dumb trick countin’ all da bitches she fought…forgettin’ da tears she done shed…too scared to open ’er eyes…’til one day da bitch ends up stretched out dead…
“Kat, girl, I just got off the phone wit’ Tamia—”
I frown. Now she knows damn well I don’t get down wit’ that bitch anymore. Once I peeped how triflin’ her dirty-ass was, it was a wrap. I don’t wanna be associated wit’a bitch like her. Especially one who was stuntin’ like she was a top-of-the-line bitch, then come to find out that fake-ass trick was rentin’ all her handbags and shoppin’ in consignment shops. Bitch, please! I don’t rock wit’ fraudulent bitches, and I damn sure ain’t gonna get it in wit’ no ho poppin’ Valtrex, okay? That bitch is toxic waste! “Umm, sweetie,” I snap, cuttin’ her off, “why the f*ck you callin’ me ’bout her ass? You know I don’t wanna hear shit ’bout ya convo wit’ her.”
“Kat, this is serious. You need to come home, now.”
“Come home for what?”
“Ya moms in the hospital. Patrice tracked down Tamia tryna get ya numbers to call you.”
“And?”
“She gave me Patrice’s number to give to you.”
“Burn it. I’m not callin’ ’er.”
“Kat, Tamia said ya moms’s in I-C-U. It’s not lookin’ good.”
I blink. Does this ho really think I give a f*ck ’bout Juanita bein’ up in somebody’s damn I-C-U ? Nope, I sure don’t. And I’m damn sure not about to let myself get dragged into any of that woman’s f*ckin’ man drama. I already know what it is. If her ass is in the hospital, then it’s behind a nigga and his dick. When she doesn’t have her legs tossed up over a sorry-ass muhf*cka’s shoulders, bein’ pressed down on a hospital mattress is the only other time her ass is layin’ flat on her back. So what else is new?
“That’s nice,” I say.
“Kat,” she says, sighin’, “all jokes aside. They don’t think she’s gonna make it.”
“Well, then, I guess she’ll finally make it to hell.”
She gasps. “Ohmiiiiigod, Kat. Now you bein’ real messy. Don’t you even care ’bout what happened to her?”
“Am I supposed to?”
“Well, why wouldn’t you? No matter what, she’s still ya moms.”
“By whose standards, Sweetie? Definitely not by mine. You put a nigga before ya own child, you pull a knife out on me and get all slick ’n greasy at the mouth in front of a muhf*cka, then you ain’t shit to me. So please. Don’t go there wit’ me. Not today.”
“Kat, that’s f*cked up.”
“Yep, and so is her life. So what I care? It is what it is. You make ya bed, you lie in it. Bitches need to stop stayin’ stuck on stupid, playin’ helpless-ass victims all da damn time. There comes a time when a bitch gotta say enough is enough, and pick her dumb ass up, dust shit off and do sumthin’ other than what da f*ck she’s doin’.”
“Kat, it ain’t always that easy,” she says defensively.
“Mmmph. And I ain’t sayin’ it is. But what I am sayin’ is a sick bitch needs to get herself some help and stop havin’ muthaf*ckin’ pity parties. You keep doin’ stupid shit, f*ckin’ wit’ sorry-ass niggas, then what da f*ck you expect you gonna get? A buncha shit, period! At some point these dizzy-ass chicks gotta stop blamin’ a muhf*cka for her demise ’n misery, and start takin’ a look at herself. I’m done. So, movin’ on.”
“Well, alrighty then. I guess, wit’ that said, you don’t wanna hear nuthin’ else ’bout what’s goin’ on wit’ her, or what hospital she’s in?”
“I sure don’t. And I’d ’preciate it if you don’t waste my time tryna tell me.”
“OhmyGod, what a hot mess!”
I feel myself ’bout to snap on her ass. “Well, bitch…whaddaya want me to do? Break down and start yellin’ ’n screamin’? You want me to act’a fool over some woman who never gave a f*ck ’bout me? Baby, puhleeze. Not gonna happen. I ain’t servin’ up no sympathy, no tears, and no muthaf*ckin’ love for a ho who has done nuthin’ but be da stupid, neglectful bitch she’s always been. So, do me a favor. If you really wanna make my day, call me when the bitch is dead.” I give her ass the dial tone, then toss the phone over onto the bed.
What the f*ck?! I fire up a blunt, then go out onto the balcony to puff ’n chill. Why da f*ck can’t these muhf*ckas leave me da f*ck alone. I’m here doin’ me and mindin’ mine. And these bitches just feel it necessary to get at me tryna disrupt my flow. Two years ago, it was the same shit wit’ Rosa callin’ me ’bout Juanita bein’ in the hospital all beat up ’n shit. Now she’s there again. Women like her never learn until a muthaf*cka stomps their lights out. A bitch like that, weak…needy, is better off dead, if you ask me. I take two deep pulls, hold the shit in my lungs ’til it burns, then slowly blow it out. I sit, starin’ out into the view.
For some reason, I find myself thinkin’ back to when I was ten. It was late at night and I couldn’t sleep. Again, Juanita was at it wit’ her headboard bangin’ up against my wall, and her nasty-ass holed up in her room, moanin’ ’n screamin’ out all kinda filthy shit. Words a bitch couldn’t wrap her mind ’round back then. But I understood enough. “F*ck me…Big dick…Good p-ssy…Don’t stop f*ckin’ me…” Those were the things that stuck out. I knew enough to know she was in there gettin’ gutted, once again.
This one particular night, I remember gettin’ outta bed and goin’ into the livin’ room to watch TV ’cause I didn’t have one in my room, and I was f*ckin’ tired of hearin’ her and her f*ck of the moment goin’ at it. I turned on the Cartoon Network and had the volume down real low. I can’t f*ckin’ remember what the hell was on, but I remember startin’ at the screen daydreamin’ ’bout someone rescuin’ me and gettin’ me the f*ck outta there, away from her, away from that nasty-ass kitchen, those roaches and all of them on-again-off-again muhf*ckas who she kept lettin’ come in and outta her bed—and life.
I don’t know how long I had been sittin’ there starin’ at the screen, dazin’. But when I finally took my eyes off’a it and turned my head, Juanita’s nigga was standin’ in the livin’room butt-ass naked, playin’ wit’ his sticky-ass dick, grinnin’ at me. The only light in the room was comin’ from the television, but it was like a spotlight was shinin’ on that nasty muhf*cka.
I felt like I was ’bout to throw up all over myself. I made a face, twistin’ my nose up. “Ewww, that’s nasty,” I said, shiftin’ in my seat and foldin’ my arms ’cross my chest. That nigga kept standin’ there, peekin’ back at Juanita’s room door e’ery so often, strokin’ his dick.
“You want sum’a this?” I rapidly shook my head. “Yeah, you do. And I’ma give you sum real soon. I’ma tear that lil’ tight ass up.”
“I’ma tell my mommy,” I said, feelin’ tears well up in my eyes.
“And if you do,” he hushed through clenched teeth, “I’ma kill her and you. You hear me?”
What was I ’posed to think? There was this tall, blue-black, burly muhf*cka, mean-muggin’ and hoverin’ over me. A bitch was only ten, and scared. I already saw him yoke her up, once, so if the nigga said he was gonna kill us, then that’s the f*ck what he was gonna do. So I believed him.
I got up to run into my room, but while I was goin’ past him, he yanked me by the arm and covered my mouth with his big hand to keep me from screamin’. I could smell Juanita’s p-ssy on his fingas. The tears I tried holdin’ back started pourin’ outta my eyes as the nigga threatened, and warned, me to not make a sound.
He put his hot, stank breath up against my ear and reminded me in a whisper, “If you tell, I’m gonna kill you. You understand me?” I quickly nodded. “Besides, who you think she’s gonna believe, anyway—me or you?”
He must’a heard sumthin’ ’cause he let me go. I raced in my room and shut my door. I buried my face into my pillow, cryin’. A few minutes later, my door swung open, the light switch was flipped up and Juanita was in my room, foamin’ at the mouth.
“Bitch, what da f*ck you doin’ up this time’a night, hunh?”
“I-I-I,” I stuttered, wipin’ my eyes, “…was watch—”
She cut me off, screamin’. “When it’s time for ya ass to be in bed, that’s the f*ck where I ’pect ya ass to stay ’til it’s time for ya ass to wake the f*ck up for school! Not sneakin’ ’round this muthaf*ckin’ house listenin’ to what the f*ck I’m doin!”
My eyes widened as I looked up at her. I was shocked at how crazy she looked. Do you think that bitch asked why my eyes were red and swollen, or why the f*ck I was cryin’? No! The only thing that cum-hungry ho was worried ’bout was why I was standin’ in the bathroom doorway lookin’ at her man takin’ a piss. Can you believe that shit? That’s what that snake-ass nigga told her when he went back into the bedroom, wakin’ her up. And the dizzy bitch believed ’im.
“What da f*ck you doin’ lookin’ at my man’s dick, hunh?”
“I wasn’t, Mommy,” I said. “He-he tried…”
“Don’t you f*ckin’ lie to me! I should knock the shit outta ya sneaky, lyin’ ass. If you ever do some muthaf*ckin’ shit like that again I’m a beat ya fresh ass ’til it bleeds.”
Then that dirty muthaf*cka had the audacity to walk in my room, smirkin’. “C’mon, baby,” he said to her, eyein’ me all sly ’n shit, “I think she gets the point.”
“Well, she f*ckin’ better,” she snapped, cuttin’ her eyes at me. “’Cause the next time it won’t be no muthaf*ckin’ talkin’. It’s gonna be my fist in her ass.” She rolled her eyes at me as he slowly tugged her by the arm, pullin’ her outta the room. Then he f*ckin’ glanced over his shoulder at me and winked, closin’ the door behind him.
That stinkin’ bitch walked ’round the house for almost three weeks servin’ a bitch ’tude like I was tryna steal her muthaf*ckin’ bum-ass nigga. F*ckin’ pathetic! So do you really think I’ma break my neck and give a f*ck ’bout sum bitch who turned her muthaf*ckin’ back on me, not once…not twice, but all’a my muthaf*ckin’ life?
I ain’t ’bout to be stressed over sum shit I can’t change. Not today! I take one last, deep toke, then put out the tip, tossin’ it over the railin’. I spark up another round, sit for a hot minute wit’ my eyes closed, puffin’. I’m so over that hatin’-ass bitch, I think, gettin’ up and goin’ back into the bedroom. I leave the balcony doors open, allow the breeze to sweep through the room as I make plans to get showered and go out and do what I do best. Shop!