Around the Way Girls 9 (17 page)

 

Breezy stood over the sink washing the dishes with tears streaming down her face falling onto her water. Her life had gone from bad to worse over the past few months and she only had herself to blame for it. After everything that Teresa had done to her, she'd lied for her when social services came out to their house to investigate the things that she'd told them. She told them that she'd lied about everything. Then, not even two weeks later, Terry raped her again. He knew that no one, not even her, was going to do anything about it. So he started taking it whenever he wanted.

She stood over the sink crying now because her period hadn't come that month and she'd been throwing up for the past three weeks. She was scared and alone with no one to turn to. King still wasn't talking to her. He wouldn't even look at her. He and Vita were walking around school like they were fuckin' Jay-Z and Beyoncé. Nothing hurt her more than not having King in her life because he'd always been there. She missed being able to talk to him and having him there to help her through the rough times. Sometimes he didn't have to say anything at all; just having him there made it all better. She dried her hands and grabbed a paper towel to wipe her face, but it was no use because the tears just kept coming.

Teresa walked into the kitchen carrying two grocery bags. She tossed them on the counter. “Cook those pork chops, and make some gravy and mashed potatoes and corn,” she ordered, noticing that Breezy was crying. She rolled her eyes and smacked her lips, not bothering to ask her what was wrong because she really didn't care to know. “Hurry up because I'm hungry.” With that she walked out of the kitchen.

Breezy went to her room and got the MP3 player that King had given her a few years back. She put her earbuds in, went back into the kitchen and started to cook. Jennifer Hudson's “Where You At” poured from her earbuds and the words tugged at her heart. All she could think about was King because he'd always been there for her and she'd pushed him away. With that song on repeat, she moved around the kitchen singing and wiping down the counter. When she was done wiping the counters, she scrubbed the floor and then went into the living room to wait for the floor to dry.

She flopped down on the sofa and picked up a magazine from the table and began thumbing through it looking at the pictures of all the celebrities dressed in the latest fashions. She came across an article written by a young female author, who'd recently published her first book of poetry. In the article the young woman spoke about a rough childhood that included being a victim of molestation and physical abuse. She said she was doing the article to encourage and give hope to other young women/men who may be in a similar situation. She wanted them to know that they didn't have to be victims forever and that it was up to them whether they chose to take control of their lives and not remain victims forever.

Breezy sat there reading the article with tears still rolling down her face. She didn't want to be a victim forever and she didn't want to continue to live this way. She knew in her heart that she was pregnant and she didn't want to bring a child into the hell that she lived in. She knew that she needed to do something about her situation but she didn't know how or where to begin. She closed the magazine and laid it back down on the coffee table, thinking that one day she would like to tell the story of how she overcame her horrible childhood.

“Lord, I need you to make a way,” she mumbled before walking into the kitchen to check on the food. She opened the oven to peek inside and check the pork chops. The aroma of the food invaded her nostrils. She slammed the oven door and ran down the hallway to the bathroom nearly knocking Teresa down on her way.

“Watch where the fuck you are going!” Teresa yelled after her as she continued on her way down the hallway. “You almost knocked me down!”

Leaning over the toilet, Breezy continued to gag even after she had nothing left in her stomach to throw up. She stood over the toilet for a few extra minutes just to make sure that she wasn't going to throw up anymore before washing her hands and rinsing her mouth out. She turned off the bathroom light and went back into the kitchen to finish up dinner.

Teresa was sitting at the table. “You sure been throwing up a lot.” She eyed Breezy, her nostrils flared.

“I think I may have a stomach virus,” Breezy lied.

“Humph.” Teresa let out a chuckle. “You'd better hope so because ain't no babies coming up in here. So whoever you been lying up with you'd better tell him to take yo' ass and that little motherfucker in.”

Breezy didn't reply; she just continued what she was doing. She set a pot of water on the stove for the mashed potatoes.

“You can stand there and act like you don't hear me all you want, but you'd better hear me because ain't nobody had no stomach virus that damn long! Pass me a beer out the refrigerator.”

Breezy opened the refrigerator and handed her a beer. She still felt a little bit nauseated and was beginning to sweat from the heat in the kitchen. She just felt bad and wanted to lie down but she knew that if she didn't finish cooking all hell would break loose.

Teresa continued as she sipped her beer. “I don't even want your ass here half of the fucking time! You know damn well I don't want some crying-ass baby in here!”

They heard the front door slam and then Terry yell, “Yo, yo, yo! Where everybody at?”

“In the kitchen, baby,” Teresa replied, her eyes still locked on Breezy. She didn't like her around Terry at all and whenever they were all in the same room she kept a close eye on Breezy.

Terry walked into the kitchen with a bottle of Henny in one hand and a plastic red cup in the other. “Damn something sure smells good. I'm hungrier than a motherfucker.”

“The food should be done in a little while,” Teresa looked up at him and announced like she had cooked something. “I picked up your favorite, pork chops.”

“Yeah, I'm going to fuck them mofo's up, too.” He sat down at the table and poured Teresa a shot of Henny in the red cup that he'd been holding and handed it to her.

She took the cup from his hand, taking a sip before placing the cup on the table. “You will never guess what,” she told him.

“Woman, I'm too fucked up to guess. What is it?”

“I think hot ass done went and got herself pregnant. I told her that she had better take that little motherfucker and her own ass wherever she got pregnant at.”

Terry laughed, knowing that if Breezy was pregnant it was his. He laughed because he had Teresa right where he wanted her, believing whatever he told her. “Humph, I know that's right. I told you that she was hot in the ass. Out there slangin' pussy every which way.”

Breezy had taken all that she could. Without turning around, she stated through clenched teeth, “Well I guess me and my baby will be staying right here then since this is where my hot ass got pregnant at! Ain't that right, Terry?”

“What?” he asked like he ain't hear what she'd said.

“What did you say?” Teresa asked.

Breezy gripped the handle of the pot of water that had been boiling on the stove and when she turned around she dashed all of it in Terry's face. “You heard what the fuck I said!” Terry fell from his chair onto the floor and yelled out in pain. His skin felt like it was on fire. Breezy wasn't done though. Before Teresa had a chance to react she blessed her ass right in the temple with that same hot-ass pot. She fell back out of the chair, knocked out cold. Terry was still screaming and holding his face. Breezy grabbed the Henny bottle off the table and started wearing his ass out with it. After getting a few good licks in, she dropped the bottle and ran down the hall. She grabbed her book bag and then ran out of the house. She didn't stop running until she was at King's door.

She banged on the door. “Open the door, King! King . . . somebody . . . please open up!”

Annette heard all of the banging and screaming and ran to the door. She snatched it open with King right on her heels. Breezy stood there with blood all over her clothes. “What in the world is going on? Breezy, what are you doing here and where did all that blood come from? Are you hurt?” She started checking her over trying to see if she was okay.

Breezy was out of breath. “I . . . am . . . fine,” she assured her, fighting to catch her breath. “Can I . . . come in?”

Annette helped her inside. “What happened, baby?”

“I just got tired. I hit my ma with a pot and I threw some hot water on Terry. I just couldn't take it no more, Ms. Annette,” Breezy cried. “I'm tired. I can't do it anymore.”

King sucked his teeth, unconvinced and not buying her whole “tired” act. “Man, take that drama right back down the street! Don't nobody want to hear that mess. You say that today and tomorrow you will be right back down there licking their wounds!” he snapped. “Why did you even come here?”

“Okay, King, that is enough! This is my house!” Annette set him straight. She didn't approve of him talking to Breezy the way that he was. She understood him not believing Breezy and not wanting to deal with her drama anymore but there was no way she would allow him to be cruel and disrespectful in front of her. The child looked like she'd been through enough. “You don't know what she will do tomorrow. Everybody has a breaking point and just maybe this time she has reached hers. Yes, I was upset with her also and I know that I said I wasn't getting involved again but there is no way I can just turn her away! You may be acting all hard and stubborn but you know just as well as I do that deep down you still love her to death and if something were to happen to her and we didn't try to help it would nearly kill you. You and Breezy have been friends for as long as I can remember so it's time to let the dumb shit go and be here for your friend. Our friends don't always make the decisions that we want them to and while we may get mad with them we are still supposed to have their back at the end of the day!”

“Man, whatever, I did have her back!” He stormed out, slamming the door.

“Lord, please keep me from putting my foot in that boy's ass!” Annette said after he was gone. She turned her attention back to Breezy. “Let's get you cleaned up and then you can tell me all about what happened and we can figure out what to do next.” She went down the hall and got Breezy a shirt and a pair of shorts to sleep in. “Here you go. Take these and go into the bathroom and get cleaned up.”

“Thank you.” Breezy took the clothes from her hand and went into the bathroom. She took a quick shower, got out, and slipped on the clothes that Annette had given her. When she went back into the living room, Annette was sitting on the sofa waiting for her.

“I fixed you a plate; it's in the kitchen,” she informed her. “Come on.” They went into the kitchen. There was a plate with spaghetti, corn on the cob, and garlic bread sitting on the table.

“Thanks, Ms. Annette, I really appreciate this. It looks so good,” Breezy told her, trying her best not to puke. The smell of the garlic was making her nauseated.

Annette looked at her strangely. “Baby, are you okay? You don't look so good.”

Instead of responding, she made a dash for the bathroom and threw up. When she was done, she rinsed her mouth out and washed her face again before returning to the living room.

Annette looked really concerned. “What's the matter, Breezy? Do you have a virus or something?” Before Breezy could respond she added, “It could just be your nerves, you know, by you being upset and all. If you want we could just talk in the morning and I could let you get some rest.”

“No, ma'am, I'm fine. We can talk tonight. Besides, this has been going on for the past three weeks and I haven't had a period so I am pretty sure it's not a virus or nerves.” She was tired of keeping everything bottled up inside. She was ready to tell everything and stop carrying around the weight of so many secrets.

Annette's hand went up over her chest, across her heart. “Oh my goodness, Breezy. Baby, what have you done? I know that you know better than to be messing with these little boys without using protection.”

“I wasn't out messing with any boys. Terry—”

Annette jumped to her feet, cutting her off. “No, that sorry motherfucker didn't! I am going to see to it that his ass is put underneath the fucking jail!”

“I will probably be the one going to jail,” Breezy blurted.

Annette looked at her confused. Her hands were on her small hips. “What do you mean? No one is going to lock you up! His sorry ass raped you!”

“No, I'm not talking about for that.” Breezy nervously fidgeted with the end of her shirt. “I threw a pot of boiling hot water in Terry's face, and I hit him a few times with a bottle of Hennessy.”

Annette threw her head back and burst into laughter. “It's about damn time! Good enough for his ass! You should've killed him!” She continued to laugh.

“There's more. I hit my ma with the pot. I think that I knocked her out because she fell to the floor and just lay there.”

“Humph, good you didn't leave that ho out. Baby, I know that's your mama but she deserves more than that. Don't you even worry about that mess; they ain't gone send no cops after you. You want to know why?”

“Why?” Breezy asked curious and anxious to hear.

“Because they know that if y'all have to go to court and you tell about how Terry has been raping you and she did nothing about it even after you told her, the both of them will be up shit creek without a paddle.”

Breezy thought about what Annette was saying and she did have a point. They sat down and talked for a little while longer before Annette announced that she was going to bed. She also let Breezy know that she would be taking her to the clinic the next morning.