That Girl Is Poison (6 page)

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Authors: Tia Hines

BOOK: That Girl Is Poison
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“Have you lost your mind? No, I know you lost your mind. Who the hell do you think you're talking to like that? You better come correct!”
Then it happened. Greg's cell phone rang.
Oh shit! That's it. I'm caught!
The phone rang for a split second. I knew she'd heard it. I thought my life was over.
My aunt looked around like,
What was that noise?
She walked toward me while I was standing in front of the closet.
I told myself, “Whatever you do, don't let her in that closet.”
“Don't come near me!”
“Who do you think you're talking to?”
“I'm talking to you, that's who! You!”
I was stepping way over my boundaries. My aunt could have knocked me silly at any given moment, with her Mike Tyson power and her Nell Carter build. That's right. Mrs. Linda Jones was no scrawny woman.
She came at me full force, charging with her fist. I tried to run but like a Flintstone, but my feet didn't pick up fast enough. She grabbed my shirt from behind, twisted the collar, and got me in a choke hold. I thought I was about to die. I don't think my blood was circulating at all. I struggled to get her off of me, but it was no use. I was about to be 'sleep, as tight as she was squeezing my neck.
And Greg, poor Greg, I always had him caught up in something. He couldn't resist helping. He had to do something. She was damned near about to kill me. I guess my silent struggle gave it away.
He rushed out of the closet and tried to muscle my aunt off of me. She let me go, turned and punched him in the face. Greg took the punch like a man and backed out of the way.
I jetted out of the room, almost tripping down the stairs. I didn't know my aunt could run that fast. She caught up to me as soon as I took the leap from the second-to-last stair. Then you know what happened next. I lost my balance as I came down from the jump, and
Splat!
My face made friends with the floor.
This gave my aunt the opportunity to get at me. She scooped me up, locked a hold of both my arms, and shook the shit out of me.
Greg must have thought I was going to break in two because he came out of nowhere and tackled my aunt to the floor. Now that was a Kodak moment. He should have gotten an award for tackle of the year for that move. Boy, was that a funny sight.
Greg, of course, was not too happy about what he did. You could tell from his facial expression that he didn't mean to do it. “Oh my. Ma'am, ma'am, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to I'm so sorry.” He tried to help her up, but she resisted. And even though he insisted, she kept shunting him aside.
Then, before you knew it, Auntie Linda had grabbed the closest object near her—the broom. Greg moved out of the way as she swung at his legs, going for the kill.
I told him to run out the back door. He took my advice and made a dash for it. I was going with him. I didn't care. I wanted out too. He unlocked the door in a hurry and let himself out, and I followed behind him.
“Desire, where are you going?”
“With you. I wanna go with you.”
“You can't. You know you can't go with me.”
“I don't wanna stay here. Please, just let me come with you.”
Then, out of nowhere, my aunt snatched me up and threw me on the ground. Greg stared, hurt displayed all over his face.
“Ouch!” I cried.
“Please, Miss, can you just let her up? I'm sorry for what I did.”
“Get off my property! And don't tell me what to do with this here floozy.”
Greg started walking away.
“Get off of me! I wanna go with Greg. Let me go with Greg. Greg, help me! Get her off of me!”
As the side of my face lay in the grass, I saw for the first time tears come to Greg's eyes.
“Desire, I—I can't. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.”
“Get your sorry ass off my property before I call the police!”
“Desire, I gotta go.”
“Greg, noooooo! Don't leave me!” I cried, struggling to get up.
Greg didn't move, listening to my plea, tears seeping from his eyes. I had him caught up for real this time. I didn't mean to get him involved, but who else could I run to? I hated that he had to witness what really went on with my aunt behind closed doors.
“I'm not going to tell you again. Get off my property!”
“Yes, ma'am. I'm leaving, and I'm sorry for everything. Just please, I promise I will never talk to Desire again if you just—”
“I'm calling the police.”
“No, that's not necessary. I'm going. I promise, miss. You won't see me again.”
Greg wiped his eyes, gave me a good-bye look, and left. His last words stayed with me. Greg was my world, y'all. He did right by me, and then he just left me. It was my fault though. I started this mess with a stupid plan that backfired.
 
 
When my uncle got home about an hour later, he was furious with me. It was understandable, you know, since I broke the rules. But he failed to see that his wife was out of control. He wouldn't even listen to my version of the story, and Lord knows, he was the last person I wanted to think ill of me. In both their eyes at that point, I was disobedient, disrespectful, and untrustworthy.
It wasn't all me though. My aunt failed to mention that she almost killed me, taking discipline to the level of abuse. But I guess none of that mattered. And it wasn't right for Uncle Frank to give me the silent treatment. I mean, he did say a few words to me, but they were discouraging and hurtful. How helpful was that?
I mean, geez, I'd only apologized more than a million times, taking responsibility for my actions. Apparently, it wasn't good enough. Uncle Frank still gave me the cold shoulder, which hurt, but not as much as not knowing whether I'd be able to communicate with Greg again.
I didn't cry though. I didn't shed a tear. I wanted to, but I'd been hurt so much and cried so many times, I just couldn't cry anymore.
I had no phone or TV privileges. And to ensure that I had no easy access to them, both were taken out of my room. My aunt wanted to make sure I had nothing. She even tried to take it as far as not letting me run track. Surprisingly, Uncle Frank had me on that one, but he did agree with the other changes.
Chapter 6
Around 2:00
A.M.
, while everyone was asleep, I snuck out of my room, went to the kitchen, and grabbed the cordless phone. I tiptoed back into my room with the phone, got deep under my covers, and started to dial Greg's number. I pressed the six, and the loud tone of the button startled me. I paused for a minute, thinking,
Damn, I'm caught!
I let three minutes pass, but nothing. Whoa! Can we say close call? I couldn't afford to get caught, but I was determined to make that phone call.
I went to dial again, remembering to put my palm over the earpiece to silence the tone of the buttons. The phone rang, rang, and rang until the answering machine picked up. I tried Greg back two more times, and it was the same thing. No answer. Something wasn't right. Greg almost never ignored my phone calls.
I waited a few minutes and dialed him again, one last time. There was still no answer. I was puzzled at that point and couldn't help but think the worst. It was official. Greg hated me. That's what kept going through my mind. I was thinking,
Did my aunt get to him? Is he really not going to talk to me again?
Obsessed and overly anxious, I called him one more time, but to no avail. My mind started racing.
He's probably sitting by the phone knowing it's me and just watching it ring because he hates me.
I placed the phone on the bed, contemplating if I was going to sneak out and go to his house. Later for that thought. All of a sudden, I felt some metal hit my leg.
I snatched the covers from over my head and my aunt had a brown oversized leather belt in her hand lashing it at me through my comforter. I tried to move out of the way, and the buckle side swiped my face, leaving a long slanted welt across my left cheek.
“Sneaky little bitch! On the phone, huh! And you were having sex in my house?”
“No,” I cried, trying to duck and move, but there wasn't too much moving I could do in the bed.
She dragged me out of the bed. “You lying hussy!”
“I swear, I didn't!” I stressed at the top of my lungs.
“Shut your trap before you wake Frankie.”
I was about to scream again, but I knew yelling would get me nothing but a cursing-out and an ass-whupping. I just continued to beg and plead, but it was no use. She wouldn't believe me. Why would she? She'd found the empty condom wrapper in my closet. I don't know what possessed her to go into my closet at that time in the morning, but she did.
“You were having sex with that boy in my house?”
“No, I was—”
“And steady lying! He's going to jail. You hear me? Your little molester friend is going to jail.”
“No, he didn't—”
“Shut up! Just shut your mouth! Say one more word, and I'll knock your teeth out!.”
I remained silent, trying to calm my nerves from crying.
“When the police get here, you tell them what that boy forced you to do. Even if he didn't, you tell them he did.”
“No, I won't,” I whispered.
“I said shut up! And, yes, you will. You know what? Matter of fact, you ain't gotta say nothing. I can fix this. I'll tell them I caught you two nuccas in the bed in my house. Yeah, you ain't gotta say nothing.”
I looked at her like she was crazy. Can you believe her? My aunt had lost her damn mind.
 
 
The doorbell rang, and it was the police. Before my aunt let them in, she came charging upstairs into my room, snatched me up, threw me on the bed face first, and tied my hands behind my back. At first, I didn't know what she was doing, but I quickly figured it out. I started hollering. Until she covered my mouth with gray tape. She even tied my ankles together, where I couldn't move at all.
Then the doorbell rang again. She rushed out of my room, leaving me tied up.
My aunt was really trippin' on some mafia-type status. I listened in agony to the mixed-up story she was telling the police. I couldn't believe my ears. She told them that I was so distraught and upset that I cried myself to sleep, and that waking me up would really not be a good idea. And they bought it too.
I was fighting to get loose, so I could set the record straight. I fought so hard, it caused me to tumble to the floor. I think at that point the police had to be on their way out the door because, within seconds of my hitting the floor, Auntie Linda came barging into my room, her lethal weapon in hand, the infamous thick brown leather belt.
“You wanna be causing a ruckus while I was downstairs speaking to the law? Huh? This is for your own good,” she ranted as she whupped me. “You almost got me busted. You get on my nerves, little hussy!”
I rolled around on the floor like I was on fire.
“Stay still, li'l heiffa! Rolling around here like you in a jungle or something. Keep yo' ass still!”
I kept rolling as if I didn't hear anything she said. She was crazy, if she thought I was gonna lie still while she burned my legs with that leather.
“Keep rolling... 'cause the more you do it, the longer I'm going to beat you.”
What type of ultimatum was that? Could I lie still while she beat my ass? I couldn't win for losing. So you already know what I had to do. Yes, take it like a champ, plain and simple.
After giving me what she would call “a good ass-whuppin'”, I sat on the floor balled up in a knot. Every scene from that day replayed in my mind. I wanted my aunt to go to hell for what she had done to me, and for lying on Greg to the police. That was the day my hate for her became permanent.
Chapter 7
Boy, was I eager to get to school the next morning. The anxiety was a true adrenaline rush for me. I literally shut my eyes three hours before it was time for me to get up. I kept saying to myself,
You gotta get to Greg. You gotta get to Greg. You gotta get to Greg.
Yeah, I was on some real junkie status, but I couldn't help it. It was imperative that I talk to him. I had to clear my name. I didn't want him to think that I'd lied on him, especially if the police had gotten to him first.
I rushed into school with three minutes to find Greg before homeroom period started. As soon as I stepped foot in the door, all eyes were on me. That was the sign, y'all. My life was over. They knew. The kids knew. They knew I had cried rape, but it wasn't true.
I contemplated skipping homeroom because Greg was definitely the priority, but getting marked absent was only going to lead to more trouble. So I had to go to homeroom and wait it out. I tapped my foot impatiently, staring at the round analog clock. The period was almost over, and right before the bell was about to ring, the damn principal delayed it for an announcement. I was about to lose my mind with all the setbacks.
“Excuse me, students,” he said. “We have a very important announcement, a sad one. Last night, if you all didn't hear on the news, Gregory Little died after he was shot in the neck during an altercation with another teenager. Ah . . . bereavement counselors are—oh, this is hard for me. I'm sorry—they are available all day if any student needs them. Thank you.”
 
 
I thought,
Oh my God! That's why people were pointing and staring at me. They knew Greg was gone.
My world immediately shut down. I lost sight and focus. My heart was beating triple times its normal rate, like I was running a fifty-yard hurdle. I couldn't move. My legs stiffened, and my mind went blank. I cursed God out from the moment I was wheeled from homeroom to the guidance office. How could He? Every safety net I treasured and cherished, He took them away from me.
Words can't explain the pain I felt at that time. My best friend, my only friend, was taken away from me, and I didn't even blame the murderer. I blamed my aunt and God.
I blamed my aunt because, who knows how Greg felt when he left my house that night? Then I blame God because He let Greg, a humble person, get shot and die. To this day, I still ask why? I don't know though. All I can say is Greg's death took a toll on me, and my entire world remained shattered.
Later on that day after school, Uncle Frank was surprised to see me arrive home early.
“You skipped practice today?”
“No, it was cancelled.”
“What's wrong with you? Don't come in here with an attitude. It was your fault you got yourself in trouble last night, young lady.”
I sat on the sofa, tears forming in my eyes.
“Desire, I know how you feel, but you were wrong. And you're not going to be able to cry your way out of this one. You know what you pulled yesterday was irresponsible, disrespectful, and downright defiant. You had company without permission and—”
“He's dead, so you won't have to worry about me being irresponsible, disrespectful, and defiant.”
“You watch your—Who's dead?”
“Greg. He's dead. He got shot. Somebody killed him. They announced it in school today.” Tears streamed down my face.
“Oh, Desire, baby, come here!”
Just then my aunt walked through the living room. “What the hell is wrong with her now?”
“Her friend Greg was killed.”
“Somebody got him before I did? Humph.” She smirked.
Uncle Frank lifted his index finger. “Linda, now last night you went overboard. Don't you dare.”
“I hate you, Auntie Linda!” I yelled. “It's all your fault anyway!” I ran to my room. I slammed my door and sat in the same place I'd hid Greg—the closet.
Uncle Frank came in some minutes later and found me. “Desire, come out of the closet for a second. I want to show you something.”
I was reluctant at first, but this was Uncle Frank. There was no reason to be stubborn with him, even if he did give me the silent treatment sometimes.
I came out of the closet slowly and noticed he had a crisp black-and-white photo in his hand of two young boys with their arms around each other's neck. “Who's that?”
“That's me and your grandfather, my brother. He always thought he was the boss of me,” Uncle Frank reminisced.
“Who's older?”
“Take a guess.”
He handed me the photo, and I analyzed it. “He was the oldest,” I said, pointing to my grandfather.
“Nope. He was three years younger than me, believe it or not.”
“But he's so much bigger than you.”
“I know. That's how he got his name Li'l Big Man. He got his height from Daddy, and I took after Mama.”
“He's dead now, right?”
“Yes, your grandfather Eddie died some time ago, before you were born. It kills me to this day to even talk about it. It all happened right before my eyes too.”
I thought he was about to cry, but he just balled up his fist and continued to talk.
“You know, he was always the courageous type. He always wanted to help somebody. Sort of like your friend Greg. Anyway, one afternoon he and I were walking home from work, and he noticed these teenage guys shoving this girl around. Before I could stop him, he got himself in the middle of it.
“It was about six guys, but he didn't care. I tried to talk him out of it. He was persistent though. He wanted to help this young lady. He always had a thing about protecting women. But, anyway, her clothes were ripped, and these guys were just tormenting her, and tossing her every which way within their circle.
“Eddie, being a macho man, spoke no words and went in, fists first. He knocked a couple of guys down, and I had no other choice but to jump in. We ran the boys off.
“I had run ahead of Eddie. I was always the faster one. But when I stopped to catch my breath, I turned around and noticed he was way behind me, moving funny. That instant, he fell to the ground. He was having one of his seizures again. I ran over to him, but there was nothing I could do. The seizure was too far along.”
“What made him have seizures?”
“I don't know. But I tell you what I do know.”
He blinked repeatedly. I guess, to hold back tears.
“I was sad for a while, 'cause it hit me hard. I was in his presence, and I was unable to save his life. I didn't let it stop me though. I didn't let it stop me from going on with my life. That stayed with me for a long time, but I had to let it go. I couldn't let being guilty for anything hold me down. I had to be strong, especially for your mom and the family. Your mother was just getting through college. She couldn't get anyone weak in her corner. I had to get it together. And I'm not saying you may not cry here and there, because you will. But try to think about the good times you all had. Laugh your cries away. It helps. Believe you me.”
“Yeah, Greg was a joker.” I laughed, picturing him being silly.
“See, there you go. I wish I could have gotten better acquainted with him. I knew he was a good person, despite what I've heard.”
“Yeah, he was like the big brother I never had and . . . and now he's gone,” I cried.
The tears flowed, and Uncle Frank embraced me.
“Oh, I know it hurts, but you have to remember he's in a better place.”
“But why?” I cried hysterically. “Why did he have to leave?”
“You know he didn't choose to leave, Desire. You know that. The Lord called on him to lead a different life. His work here has been done.”
“Why couldn't he choose someone else?” I whispered.
“Desire, I can't answer that. I don't know. Only the Man above can give that answer. I do know that you need to stop crying, and laugh a little more. Think about the good times, like the time your track team went skating. What was that story you told me?”
I burst out laughing from the image in my mind.
“Oh yeah, you said he couldn't skate for nothing. You said he kept falling and every time he tried to get up, he'd end up right back on the floor.”
“Yeah, that was funny.” I laughed, wiping my eyes.
“We definitely had fun skating that day.”
It felt good to think about the good times with Greg. It didn't help me cease the crying too much, but it did calm my nerves a bit. I was still hurt to my soul and damn near boohooed a river. What do you expect? I missed him, and the thought of not being able to hear his voice or see him again hurt my heart to the core.
For the rest of the week I skipped school and track practice. I spent my time in the library doing my work for my classes that had given me a syllabus in advance. I kept my head in whatever books I could get my hands on. I was doing me. I hadn't even thought about the fact that the school was going to call my house to report my absences. That's how gone I was, but reality hit quickly once Auntie Linda got the message that I had been absent from school for
x
amount of days. She was furious with me.
Shoot, Uncle Frank was flat-out disgusted. Once again, he didn't bother to utter a word to me. Not a single word. He ignored me for two days straight. And when he shut me out this time, I felt like I had nobody. Greg was gone, and now my uncle had me feeling like he didn't care about me. When he did decide to talk to me the day before the funeral, it didn't feel genuine.
It seemed like he was forcing himself to do something he really didn't want to do. I know I messed up. Okay, I knew that, but I was a young lost soul grieving. My aunt wouldn't let me stay home, and going to school just made me think of Greg even more, which caused me to lose focus in class. Obviously, skipping school wasn't the greatest choice in the world. But, hey, I was mourning. I thought at least my uncle would have understood that. He always understood me, but it seemed as if he no longer had empathy for me.
I don't know. I couldn't call it. Maybe I just missed Greg and was looking for my uncle to fill the space. You know, take away the pain and just be Greg, but that was impossible. I was asking for a miracle. That's what being distraught and confused can do to you. Greg was my backbone, my teacher, my friend, my big brother from another mother, and just like that, he was gone, leaving me alone, alone to fend for myself in this house of hurt and in this world of hate.
 
 
The day of the funeral my aunt wasn't trying to let me go, and Uncle Frank wasn't home to back me up.
“Where do you think you're going?”
“To Greg's funeral.”
“Oh no, missy. If you can skip school, then you can skip the funeral.”
“I can't miss the funeral, Auntie Linda.”
“You should have thought about that before you decided to cut school.”
“Can I please go to the funeral?”
“No. I said no.”
I ran to my room crying. How can you compare cutting school to going to a funeral? It wasn't like I was trying to go to a party or something. I was going to a goddamn funeral, and I wasn't going to let her stop me. Oh yes, y'all, I got brave with it. I took matters into my own hands. I got my purse, put my shoes back on, grabbed my notebook, and walked down the stairs like I was grown. There was no stopping me.
“Desire, I don't have time for your shit today. Take your narrow behind back upstairs and pretend the funeral's in your room.”
I ignored her and kept walking toward the door.
“Oh no, you don't!”
She reached for my purse, and I clutched it tightly against my side. She was not about to get a hold of me.
I dashed out the door. To hell with my aunt. Although she said no, I went to the funeral anyway.
 
 
The church was packed with people. I couldn't even sit down. I had to stand the entire service. It was cool though. I managed to stand tall, with heavy tears here and there. I didn't feel awkward or out of place. I just remember wishing the whole thing had never happened. I wanted it to be a dream; a dream that was never meant to come true. Shit was real. Greg was gone. Dead. Lying face up in a coffin ahead of me.
During the funeral, they allowed family and friends to get up and say a few words. I wanted to read a poem I had written for him, but I was scared. There were too many people in sight. I watched everyone else go up and speak. Then the pastor gave the final call, and I found myself walking to the podium. I don't know how I was able to walk up there, but I did. I ain't superstitious or nothing, nor do I believe in all that weird ghostly stuff, but seriously, it felt like Greg's spirit had taken over my body and made my fear disappear.

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