That Girl Is Poison (27 page)

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Authors: Tia Hines

BOOK: That Girl Is Poison
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I walked to her office. She had me sit and wait for her for like a half an hour. If this was going to be the case, then I would've eaten breakfast. I skipped, not wanting to delay my release.
She strolled in the room with coffee in her hand. I was so mad. I could have knocked that shit right out of her hand for having me waiting so long.
She took her seat behind her desk with a smirk on her face. “That stunt you pulled last night was clever but not good enough to get past Dynamite Diane.”
“What stunt? Shane came to my bunk and pulled me out of my bed against my will.”
“Desire, you know men are not allowed in the bunk area, especially the security guards, since the incident with you and Andrew.”
I can't believe this shit. Here I am complaining about what was about to happen to me for the third time and this bitch doesn't believe me. And I'm wrong for doing what I do?
“I have no reason to lie.”
“And I have no reason to believe you.”
“Shane was trying to rape me,” I yelled, almost in tears.
“You have two options. Either you tell the truth, or you are here for another month.”
“I'm telling the fucking truth! He tried to fucking rape me, and I want to press charges!”
“You think somebody is going to believe your story? Especially when I've already let them know what I walked in on the first time you were supposed to be discharged?”
I sat silent knowing she was right. I could do nothing. Telling the truth and crying wasn't going to get me out of this one.
The office telephone rang.
“What? . . . Yeah . . . Okay . . . Handle that.”
I stared her down for the three seconds she was on the phone. This would not have happened if she had just let me go home the first time.
“I fucking hate you!”
I grabbed my bags to get up leave, and she rushed behind me.
“You can't leave. Sit down.”
“Blow me!”
She grabbed my shoulder, and I yanked her off.
“Get off of me!” I power-walked to the door.
“No, Desire, you can't go—”
I ran out of her office. She chased me, and I made sure to stay far enough ahead so she couldn't reach out and grab me.
I bolted out of the front door, and before I could get down the stairs, Tameka stood in my way. She had come back as promised. She charged at me as I stood surprised, but I quickly regained my senses and was ready to go toe to toe. I dropped my bags and everything.
She pulled out a knife.
I tried to pick up my feet and run, but my feet wouldn't move. It was too late. She got me, just like she said. I held my chest as blood seeped out. I felt the side of my face split open as she slid the blade across my cheek and through the corners of my mouth. I fell to the ground helpless.
She dropped the knife, got on top of me, and attempted to choke me, but I gained control. I started wailing on her nonstop.
I busted her lip open, and then went for the opportunity. She was right at hand to taste my blood. I pulled her closer to me and started kissing her.
Staff ran over and pulled us apart.
I started coughing up blood. Tameka had my blood all over her face. I chuckled, knowing I had just made her a new HIV patient.
“You dirty dike! You nasty bitch! Tryin'-a kiss me. I should have killed you,” she yelled.
I continued to chuckle in pain. She had gotten me, but I got her ass too. I knew that her open wounds had absorbed a good portion of my blood. I knew it did, and I was laughing inside.
I started feeling woozy. I coughed up more blood, holding my chest.
“Someone call an ambulance. She's bleeding a lot. I think they're both hurt.”
I lay on my side, feeling like I was choking, shaking.
“She's losing blood quickly. She might not make it. Where's that damn ambulance?”
A short time later, the paramedics rushed over, announcing, “We're here.”
They put me on a stretcher in a flash, got me in the ambulance, and sped off.
“Step on it, Charley. She's losing consciousness.”
A loud beeping noise sounded off.
“Ah shit! We need more pressure!”
“Nah, man, she's leaving.”
“Shit! Shit! Shit! I don't have a pulse anymore!”
“Damn it, Charley. Not another one. She's just a baby.”
Chapter 29
This all could have been avoided if I had just listened to Diane and sat my ass back down. But nooooooo. Desire had to be hardheaded and make a run for it. And look where it left me. Hooked up to a damn heart monitor with bandages across my face.
I was in a heap of pain. My chest hurt every move I made, and I practically had no feeling in my face. I was going to be scarred for life. Ain't nobody gonna want me to put it on them now. Shit, that bitch! Oooh wee! She got hers though. I ain't mad. She put a dent in my plans, but I got her.
I positioned my bed to lean back so I wouldn't be so upright and while in motion a visitor walked through the door. It was Christine. The lady that did nothing but give birth to me. I almost went into cardiac arrest.
Why is she here? Why is she in my presence again unexpected?
“How are you, honey? I got here as quickly as I could.”
I rolled my eyes then closed them, wishing that when I opened them back up, she'd be gone.
“Oh, look at my baby. I can't stand to see you like this,” she cried.
“Then why you here?” I asked, barely moving my mouth, trying not to aggravate the stitched corners.
“You almost died, Desire, and please, baby, don't talk. I know it hurts for you to talk.”
“I'm fine,” I spoke through my clenched teeth.
“No. Fine is when you don't have to be admitted to the hospital and then have life-saving surgery. That's fine. I almost lost you. You wouldn't believe how fast I rushed down here. People were cursing at me, blowing their horns, and—”
“I guess I have to be on my death bed to hear from you.”
“Desire, please don't start. I'm here, okay. Give me a chance.”
“You had a chance.”
“I made a mistake, a huge mistake. I chose my career over my child. I'm sorry baby.”
“Apology not accepted.”
“Desire, what else do you expect me to say?”
I lay there blinking repeatedly, trying to halt the tears. She sounded so sincere. I wanted to believe her, but in the back of my mind, I felt it was phony.
“Just leave me alone.”
“No, I've done it once, and I'm not going to do it again.”
“Try twice.”
“Okay, two times, but I was caught up in a man and I'm not anymore. Just give me a chance.”
“Don't you get it? I don't need you anymore. It's too late. As far as I'm concerned, I don't have a mother or a father. I'm my own woman—me, myself, and I.”
“You're a child lost, and it's not too late. I'm still your mother.”
“Oh yeah? Well, where was my mother when her daughter was being mistreated by Auntie Linda? Or when she was crying to come home because her best friend's brother raped her? Or where was she when her child was humiliated on the first day of school? Where was she when her best friend Greg died? Or, better yet, where was she when some man made her take off her clothes and feel her up like a fifty-cent ho? Huh? Where were you?” I yelled through my clenched teeth, sounding like one of the Charlie Brown adults. I took a deep breath, trying to keep from getting anxious. The corners of my mouth were beginning to throb.
“I, ah, I didn't know you had to go through so much.”
“Humph!”
“But, Desire, it's not like what it seems. I mean, I tried to come.”
Auntie Linda walked into the room. My mom stopped speaking and wiped her eyes.
Wow, I must be getting ready to die! What brings this visit?
“I hear you almost died,” Auntie Linda commented.
“I
am
dead,” I mumbled.
“Desire, don't say that,” my mother interjected.
“Why not? I hate this world. I hate my life!”
“You're just full of hate. Like you're some kind of angel. You still don't appreciate nothing, and that detention center obviously didn't teach you anything either.”
I sat up in my bed and leveled the height. I was gonna have to be heard right now and deal with the pain.
“What? Am I supposed to appreciate that you beat me silly until I could take no more? You abused me for no reason. I was trying. I tried to get right, but you never let up.”
“I went a whole year letting you do whatever the hell you wanted, and you went wild. So don't give me that mess. You deserved everything coming to you.”
I began breathing fast. “I didn't deserve to be treated like shit.” I grabbed the pillow from behind me and hauled it at my aunt. Then I instantly grabbed my chest and the sides of my mouth from the excruciating pain.
My heart monitor started beeping.
Two nurses ran in as my aunt and mother just stood watching.
“Please, you all have to step out for a second,” a nurse demanded.
I watched as both my aunt and mother walked out, my mother reluctantly, but my aunt, strong, tall, and proud. She was probably wishing I would die, and I was wishing the same thing.
I only had to be stabilized though. I needed to be calmed down from getting worked up. The nurses advised me to get some rest as they injected me with more morphine to ease my pain. All visits for the remainder of the day were canceled. Good. I didn't need anymore surprises anyway.
 
 
I woke up the next morning feeling refreshed but still in pain. A doctor was sitting in one of the chairs, I guess, waiting for me to awake.
“How are you feeling this morning?”
“In pain, but fine.”
“Where is your pain?”
“My face is throbbing, and my chest feels caved in.”
“On a scale from one to ten, how would you rate the pain?”
“Eleven,” I mumbled.
“All right. That's not unusual for now. For these next couple of days, it's going to be extremely sore. You were cut very deep. At times you may feel like hyperventilating because your heart may speed up unexpectedly. The knife just missed—”
“My heart, I know.”
“Yup, kiddo. You're lucky.”
“Humph.”
“What? You don't think so?”
I shrugged my shoulders.
“Come, on kiddo. You have much more life to live, having fun, playing games, going to college,” he rambled as he checked my vitals.
He put the stethoscope to my lungs. “Take a deep breath slowly for me . . . now breathe out. That a girl. One more time. Breathe in and breathe out . . . okay, great.”
“Are you having trouble breathing?”
“Not that I know of, but it hurts inhaling.”
“How does it feel to talk? I notice you're talking through your teeth and not really trying to move your mouth.”
“Yeah. 'Cause it hurts.”
“It's okay to do what you're doing, but you should work on talking and talk regular to exercise your jaws. I'm also going to have you blow into this tube a few times a day, so I can measure how much air you are able to expel from your lungs. Eventually, I want your breathing to be effortless.”
“Great. When can I get out of here?”
“Let's take it slow. First, let me give you another dose of meds to ease the pain. It will allow you to rest better.”
“What about my chest pain?”
“This will take care of that too.”
“So when can I leave?”
“Not sure, kiddo,” he answered, smiling and pressing buttons that administered more morphine into my IV.
“Once you are more stable, we'll talk about releasing you and removing those bandages.”
“Why?”
“It's procedure to ensure you are healing as expected.”
“If you say so.”
“Cheer up, kid. Everything's going to be all right.”
“When? I've been waiting. I go from bad to worse. The story of my life.”
“How old are you?”
“Sixteen.”
“Oh, kiddo, you're going to have many more stories to tell and surviving this one is a start.”
“Not if I don't get AIDS first.”
“What was that?”
“You heard right. I got the disease.”
The doctor turned beet-red. “What disease?”
“The human immunodeficiency virus, better known as—”
“HIV,” he finished.
Boy, the look on his face.
“It's okay. I'm good with it, you know.”
“No, no, I understand,” he said taking down some notes. “How do you know you have this?”
“Because I got tested.”
“Are you on medication for this? Why didn't I know about this?”
“I was on meds, but since I was locked up, I stopped taking them. And nobody knows, not even my family. So please don't say anything.”
“Don't worry. Everything is confidential. Have you sought any counseling for this?”
“Why? For what? Like I said, nobody knows, and I plan on keeping it like that. I only told you because you started talking about surviving to tell stories.”
“I'm not saying spread the word to the world, but I'm concerned here about your mental health. And, your mom, she seems to think the—”
“She doesn't know anything about me.”
“That's fine, but from the little bit we have talked, I think it would be a good idea if you saw one of our mental health counselors. I'll send someone up later in the day.”
“I'm not crazy.”
“No one said you were. Seeking professional help doesn't mean you're not sane. Let's forget that for now. Get some rest and buzz the nurse if you need anything.”
I couldn't wait for him to leave. He got to me. I didn't want to show it, but he agitated me. I was feeling real violated right now. Why did I tell him about what I got? What was I thinking? He thought I was crazy. I wasn't crazy, I was just living life, that's all. Ha! Yup, just living life. My mother got a nerve too, trying to be concerned about me.
“Bitch, it's too late. Ha! Ha!” I yelled out loud to myself.
Damn, I just might be borderline crazy, either that or this morphine is messing with me.
I dozed off, and I rested for a few more hours as instructed. I tried to force myself to eat the nasty tomato soup they gave me because I was hungry, but I spat it out once I wrapped my lips around the spoon.
Jen walked in right on time to see me in action too. “Ew! I think you're supposed to eat that, not spit it out.” She smiled. She greeted me with a soft hug and a tap of a kiss on the cheek. “How you feeling?”
“In a little pain, but the nurse just gave me my dosage, so I should be cool in a minute.”
“I came yesterday, but they told me you couldn't have any more visitors.”
“Oh yeah. My mom and aunt came unexpectedly.”
“I know. I saw them. How'd that go?”
“It went. They think I'm crazy, and they want me to see a shrink.”
“That's not too bad.”
“Oh, here you go. You're supposed to be on my side.”
“I am on your side, but I ain't gonna lie to you.”
“Whatever. Just forget I told you. I ain't doing it anyway.”
“Why not? I think you should. You've been through a lot.”
“And what's new? You don't even know the half.”
“Exactly. And this is why it is a good reason for you to get help. Talk to a professional who can help you sort out your problems and hopefully get you to living a normal life.”
“I'm dealing with it on my own. Plus, I don't have major problems.”
“Dee, you were taking pills. You—”
“You supplied me with them.”
“Hey, wait a minute. Don't blame me, Desire. I got in on it for the money, not to use them.”
“Well, I used them. So what? It made me feel good like I'm feeling right now, and you're blowing my high.”
“And you're blowing your life away. Some therapy can do you good. You won't need a drug to make you feel good.”
“Just leave it alone.”
“Desire, you're my best friend . . . more like a sister to me. I don't like how you're living your life. I'm scared for you since this has happened.”

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