Read Bad Apple - the Baddest Chick Online
Authors: Nisa Santiago
Tags: #Urban Fiction, #New York (N.Y.), #Fiction, #Urban Life, #Street Life, #Sisters, #African American, #General
When she closed her eyes to try and stop the crying, she heard a nurse say, “You need to rest.”
Turning to look at the short, round nurse clad in blue and white scrubs, Apple yelled, “I want a plastic surgeon.” When the nurse hesitated, Apple screamed, “Now, bitch!”
“Ma’am, you need to rest.”
“Fuck that! Look at me!” she cried out.
The shaded, but saddened look on the nurse’s face said she felt sympathy for the young girl. She wanted to console the eighteen-year-old, but thought against it. Instead, she checked Apple’s IV flow, jotted something down on a clipboard, and walked out the room, leaving Apple feeling alone and disgusted.
She fell asleep again and woke up hours later in the burn unit. She was alone in the room, and the only thing on her mind was revenge. Every time she touched the bandages that covered most of her burned face, she fumed with rage and then began to cry with the realization that she was no longer beautiful.
Chico rushed into the hospital searching for his woman. He argued with security and then a few staff members, shouting, “Where’s my fuckin’ girl?”
One of Apple’s doctors escorted Chico toward the burn unit where she was recuperating and heavily sedated. He stopped at the doorway with a look of shock registering on his face. He couldn’t believe it. She looked like a mummy as she lay in bed.
“What the fuck,” he uttered.
Apple slowly turned to see her love, Chico, standing in the doorway, but she didn’t say a word to him. The medication in her system was making her drowsy and delirious. Her burns were itching and painful, but she couldn’t scratch.
Chico rushed into the room, took Apple’s hand into his, looked at her with that firm love in his eyes, and demanded to know, “Baby, who the fuck did this shit to you? Just give me a fuckin’ name, and they dead. I promise you that.”
Apple locked eyes with her boyfriend and constantly repeated, “Kola . . . Kola . . . Kola.”
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