That Girl Is Poison (18 page)

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Authors: Tia Hines

BOOK: That Girl Is Poison
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Chapter 21
My father and his side of the family were furious with me. They cursed me out for an entire week, and they still couldn't change my mind about not wanting to keep my baby. I was content with my decision. I did not want him. I couldn't do anything for him. I wouldn't do anything for him. He was another male born in this world to bring me down, and I couldn't and wouldn't let that happen.
He looked so much like his no-good daddy. That's what really set me off to give him up. Looking like his father led me to believe that he was going to be just like him. Plus, he had the shit that I had, and I definitely couldn't deal with a sick baby.
All in all, my Aunt Millie made plans to care for him until someone wanted to adopt. It bothered me though that none of my father's family wanted to raise him, as bad as they told me off. They should have agreed to more than a measly temporary custody. My mom, on the other hand, wanted him, but she knew that was not an option for her to pursue. If I wasn't keeping him, then she wasn't going to get the privilege.
It hurt though, not that I wasn't keeping my baby, but that my father decided to disown me. He said I was resistant to him shaping and molding me, and he was done trying. He gave up on me just like that. I wondered how he could give up on his only child left in this world. He told me to never ever call him again, even if my life depended on it. How coldhearted! I couldn't understand how he could give up on me so easily.
He didn't get a chance to know me, the real Desire. The one that had emotional problems, that was confused and lost, and yearning for love. It wasn't fair. I needed my father. Hell, I needed someone, and I had someone. My Uncle Frank.
Uncle Frank welcomed me back home with open arms. Auntie Linda wasn't on the same page, but it didn't matter what she wanted. Uncle Frank, out of nowhere, took a firm stand and said his home was where I needed to be. Not my mom's home, wherever that was, not with my dad, and not down South. He wanted me with him.
For the few weeks left of the summer, I was cool, calm and collected, enjoying the remainder of the hot days.
I heard no more about my son and didn't attempt to make an effort to find out about him either. To my knowledge he was still with my Aunt Millie. It was sad because I didn't even know what they had named him.
I actually spent a lot of time with my uncle, and he was happy to have his old Desire back. I put more hours into writing. I made sure I kept journals of my days, nights and feelings on any and everything. The writing kept me sane.
On top of that, I was allowed to hang out with Jen on certain days of the week, but that all changed when school started.
 
 
My first day back to school starting the ninth grade was a reminder of my first day of school in seventh grade, except this time, Jen was not my enemy. She was the replacement filler for Greg.
Drama settled in as soon as I stepped foot into the school. I thought I was in rumor city. People were bold enough to approach me with their crazy questions. I was walking to my first period class when the first nosy heiffa approached.
“I heard you had a baby. What did you have?”
“A boy,” I answered.
“That's cool. Are you going to bring him to the school one day?”
“Yeah, maybe,” I lied, wanting to get rid of her.
Then I get into the classroom, and the teacher pulls the same shit in front of the entire class.
“So, class, I want to congratulate Desire on her baby boy.”
The class looked at me like I was an alien coming to abduct them. I was embarrassed. Mad that I couldn't hide my face. You know I was calling that teacher all kinds of bitches under my breath, right? What if I didn't want anybody to know that I had a baby? Why would she make an announcement about my personal business like that? What kid was going to be happy about their thirteen-year-old classmate having a damn baby?
“How is the baby, Desire?” Ms. Drimmer asked.
I swear she had it out for me. First, it was assigning my seat next to Jen when we were enemies, and now she was putting me on the spot.
“The baby died. He was stillborn when I had him,” I announced nonchalantly, without any remorse whatsoever.
“Oh my! I am so sorry.”
“No problem. I'm over it.”
Yeah, I burst her bubble. You should have seen the look on her face. You would have thought she had a still-born baby. Maybe next time she'll think twice about announcing someone's personal business.
The kids, on the other hand, didn't care. They kept coming at me like wildfire. By the end of the school day, I was the topic of discussion. If it wasn't this, it was that. I told different stories to get people off my back, and it backfired. I couldn't wait to leave school.
Jen suggested that we leave early, but it was the first day and I wasn't trying to get in trouble. I told my uncle I was going to do better and I meant it. Nothing or no one was going to hold me back. She understood where I was coming from and took the lead by telling everyone to back off. Homegirl had my back.
By the end of the day though, I had heard it all. The rumor that struck me the most was that I was a ho, who didn't know who my baby's father was, and that's why Malik dissed me. Get this, “He tried to work things out with me, but I was being a bitch.” Can you believe that bull?
I ain't going to lie though. Those rumors tore me apart. I was in tears walking home from school. I wasn't a ho. I didn't sleep around like that. I was just sexually active.
Malik was the ho. He'd caused the problem. He left me hanging, and the bastard gave me HIV. The disease I had blocked out of my mind. After thinking so hard that I had deleted it altogether, I realized it was just my imagination. I thought so much about not having it, that was what remained in my head.
But those damn kids and the rumors brought me back to reality. They made me remember that I did have a disease for life. And no matter how much I ignored it or tried to blank it out, it wasn't going away.
That was it. I was a straw short of going over the edge, and I went back to my old ways. I was skipping school. I started smoking weed. It helped me think less, so yeah, I did it. I was coming home high and sometimes tipsy from downing a nip of vodka. No one in my household knew what was going on, but they weren't stupid.
My uncle tried talking to me about my behavior, but it was a blur to me. His words went through one ear and out the other. He didn't go to school with me. He didn't know how it felt to be the center of attention every single day. It was crazy how them kids were coming at me. I was almost on the verge of slitting my wrist. Believe me when I tell you, those kids had me cooked. So the words coming out of my uncle's mouth didn't mean squat to me.
It was a stupid move ignoring him though. I shut him out, and that shit bit me in the ass.
I came home late from school on a Friday night and got the worst news ever.
“See. Your fast ass is so busy out there running the streets, you didn't even know your uncle was sick.”
“Did something happen to him?”
“Yeah, he died. That's what happened to him, and I blame you. He was so happy when you came back, and then you made him miserable again, with your late nights and drug problems.”
“I didn't make him nothing.
You
were the mean one.”
“Oh, chile! You are so blind to your own needs, you wouldn't notice a dead man walking.”
I started marching through the house like a mad woman looking for my uncle, and there was no sign of him.
“Chile, what are you looking for?”
“I'm looking for Uncle Frank.” I called out, “Uncle Frank!”
“Frankie is dead. Don't you hear me talking to you? I swear, you don't listen to nothing.”
“He can't—I didn't get a chance to tell him about my day at school.”
“And when is the last time you did that?”
It hit me hard. My Uncle was all I had left in the world, and he was dead. I was left to rot with my mean ol' aunt.
I missed school for the next couple of days. I didn't want to go back to school until after the funeral but my aunt changed those plans.
“I hope you know you're getting out of here tomorrow and taking your tail to school. Then right after, you come straight home.”
“When is the funeral? Can I go back after the funeral?”
“No, there is no funeral. I can't afford to pay for no casket and services and a church and a pastor. It's all robbery. Your death cost more than living. I ain't having no funeral.”
“You have to have a funeral.”
“What'd I say? There is no more Frankie around here to save you. You are living under my roof, in my house, and things are going to change, starting today, right now. I haven't been in your shit all this time you rippin' and runnin', but things are going to change. I am putting my foot down at this very moment.
“Every day, you will come straight home from school. You are allowed to go nowhere. You cannot watch television unless you ask my permission. You cannot talk on the phone unless you ask my permission. You cannot leave this house unless you ask my permission. Don't use my stove unless I am in the kitchen with you. Every Saturday of the week I want this house cleaned from top to bottom. I want every single room swept and mopped. And don't forget, when you mop, make sure you are on your hands and knees. Make sure the kitchen is cleaned up every night after dinner. Now, if you don't want to do any of this, then there is the door. Stay your ass elsewhere.”
What could I say? She got me at a time when I needed her the most, because I had no one else. I wasn't running away either. I vowed to my uncle that I was going to do better, and I didn't stick by it. She was right. Things had to change. There was no more running away, coming home late, or lying. I had to do right. I had to figure out a way to deal with those damn kids harassing me. Then maybe I could do right, and my aunt would change her mean, nasty ways.
I tried to do right, y'all, but it was just too much. My aunt was treating me like a freaking slave. The old times were back. “Do this. Do that. You missed a spot!”
I couldn't take it no more.
“Desire, did you clean today and dust these trophies?”
“Yes, and I dusted those trophies yesterday.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, ma'am,” I said with an attitude.
“Who you think you talking to like that?”
I bit my tongue to hold myself back from cursing her out.
“Don't you hear me talking to you, you little hussy?”
Whap!
She smacked me dead across my face.
I smacked her back off of instinct, and we were rumbling. She definitely overpowered me, but I hung in there. Then she made the phone call that sent me away for a week to hell and back.
The day my aunt laid the law down and we ended up getting into that big fight, she sent me on a special six-day journey to be locked up in boot camp. It was the worst. I actually wanted to go back home. I was better off being a slave there than at boot camp.
The girls there were at me hard. I got into four fights, not including when I got jumped for no reason. I guess it was because I was the new girl on the block. I had a black eye, twisted ankle, and a swollen wrist. I missed home like it was Michael Jackson's Neverland.
The food that was served tasted like hot water. It had no flavor, no taste, no nothing. Half the time, the food was uncooked, and you were lucky to get it served hot. That wasn't all though. Get this—You had to check the food before you ate it because the food could have anything, from rodents to spit, in it. Believe me, I didn't want to eat it, but I had to. It was either that or starve. I chose not to starve because if you did, there were consequences like time extension, getting a meal taken away, or bathroom duty, but only on the “shitters.” I was cool! I did what I had to do. I wanted out.
I couldn't believe a place like that actually existed. The place was developed to be horrid so you would never want to go back. I can say it served its purpose because I sure enough was not going back there. That was one place I was staying away from. So when I got out, I did better. Somewhat.
School was a breeze-through, but I wasn't happy. I was still the center of attention, with all different types of rumors flying around about me, and at the same time I was losing my best friend again. I had to come straight home after school. I couldn't use the phone. Even when I asked, I couldn't use it. I only got a chance to talk to Jen at school briefly, because that year we didn't have any classes together. The only way we saw each other more than enough was by asking for a pass to the bathroom and meeting up in the hallway.
Every day I expressed to Jen how my aunt's attitude didn't change, that she was treating me worse. I figured if I did right by her she would maybe loosen up, but she didn't. She beat me up almost every day for no reason. I didn't retaliate because, like I said, I didn't want to go back. I told my probation officer what she was doing to me, but being the man that he was, and being in my life, of course he did nothing about it.

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