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Authors: Kia DuPree

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BOOK: Shattered
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“I don’t know. You seemed interesting, I guess.”

“Am I?”

Was this a trick question? I nodded.

“Tell me more about you then,” she said.

“Umm…ain’t much to tell. I got two sisters and a brother. A niece and nephew. I’m taking classes at Everest to be a medical assistant. I don’t know. What else you wanna know?”

Audri shook her head, then started the car. She drove down Florida Avenue, then headed toward my apartment. I guess the date was over. When we got to my street, she double-parked.

“I don’t mess with broads who only curious about what it’s like to fuck albinos.”

My mouth fell open. No, this bitch ain’t trying to carry me. I climbed out of her car and headed up the stairs to my apartment. I ain’t even look back, even though she made her engine roar like it was saying, “Fuck you, too.”

A
month later Meeka called about doing another party. This time it was at a house in Takoma Park and all we had to do was dance. Again, I wasn’t feeling this house party shit without some type of protection, but the money was gonna be too easy. Meeka wanted me to bring my cousin Marcha since she was gonna bring her friend Quita. At least it wouldn’t just be us two, and if it was packed, then I wasn’t doing no extras. Just dance and keep it moving. If it got too out of hand, I knew how to get home, and I was driving my BMW that I finally picked up two weeks ago.

When I pulled up to the house, I saw a handful of dudes standing on the porch smoking and talking. Me and Marcha waited in the car until Meeka showed up. A couple minutes later, her and Quita walked over to my car. Music vibrated the house, but it wasn’t loud enough that the neighbors would call the police. Niggas was packed all over the place, looking hungry for some ass. They was crowded on the steps, all over the living room, in the kitchen, in the bathroom. The dude Kenny who was throwing the party was having it for his best friend’s birthday. Backyard Band thumped from the speakers as he pointed us to the room where we could change and get ready.

“Girl, it’s a lot of money in that room!” Marcha shouted and clapped her hands together. Her and Quita was the pros, since Marcha worked at the Skylark on New York Avenue and Quita at the Penthouse on Georgia Avenue.

“I just hope they not broke,” Quita said, rubbing glitter body butter over her skin.

Me, either. Hell, I was only getting five hundred for this party. My plan was not to dance longer than twenty minutes. But when I looked at Quita, seeing how pretty she was, her perfect brown skin and her banging shape, I knew I wasn’t gonna make a lot of tips, just grinding. There wasn’t a scar, pimple, or stretch mark on her entire body. She looked like a trophy with her small waist, big ass, and titties. Quita put on a cute, short bob wig and lined her eyebrows. I watched Marcha light up a blunt and finish her makeup. She let me take a few puffs. Meeka poured herself a cup of Patrón. I already knew that I was gonna have to work extra hard if I wanted to make more than five hundred tonight with these thirsty bitches.

A few minutes later, I heard Meeka’s CD playing Lil Wayne’s “Lollipop” and knew that was our cue to get our asses out there. I let Quita and Marcha go out first since those hoes had a real routine. I popped an X pill and chased it with Meeka’s Patrón before I marched out behind them.

“You good?” Meeka asked, grinning.

I nodded.

“All right now. Let’s get it in,” she said, smiling.

Dancing was easy. Same old shit. Shake like a tambourine. Add squats and shake. Pop and split. Next, grind my hips, move my body like a snake, and do it all over again. Niggas smiled, damn near slobbed on themselves. Touching and squeezing. Rubbing shit they ain’t wanna pay extra for. Cheap niggas after all. I was sitting on a dude’s lap, grinding with my back to his chest, when I saw my brother Ryan walk in the room with his friend Marlon. “Oh, shit,” I whispered. My body froze for a second, and then I snapped out of it and tried to run out.

“What the fuck?!” Ryan yelled as he snatched my wrist. He looked at me like my face was covered in shit. I pulled away until he let me go. I ran back to the bedroom where I had my stuff, threw on some clothes, then stormed out. Ryan’s fist slammed into my face as soon as I hit the porch.

“Damn,” I heard people say.

My nose felt cold, then hot, as tears mixed with the blood. I had a flashback of Nut.

“What the fuck you think you doing?” Ryan yelled as he snatched me off the porch and shoved me down the street. I tripped over my feet and caught myself from falling.

“Stop, Ryan,” I cried, trying to get away from him.

“Fuck no! Where your car?”

I pointed.

“Get your ass in the muthafucking car! Embarrassing me and shit!” he said, dragging me down the street.

“KiKi!” I heard Meeka’s voice screaming. Even though she grabbed a T-shirt before she left the house, she was still in her panties and barefoot.

“Leave her alone, Ryan!” Marcha shouted behind him.

“Ryan, stop!” Meeka screamed and threw her body in between the two of us.

“Get the fuck off of me, fat bitch!” Ryan yelled, pushing her hard, making her fall to the ground.

“Go, Meeka,” I begged. “Please.”

“Ryan, leave her the hell alone. She grown!” Marcha chirped behind me.

“What? Don’t be telling me what my sister can do!” Ryan barked. “I expect your ho ass to be doing this shit, but not her!”

Ryan snatched my car keys from my hand and opened the door. He threw me in the backseat. I couldn’t believe this was happening. He jumped in the driver’s seat and started the car up, pulling off before I could see what had happened to Meeka. I was bawling my eyes out and trying to stop my nose from bleeding with a shirt I had in the backseat. Seemed like every traffic light we hit, Ryan called me a new type of ho or bitch. Nasty ho. Trifling bitch. Dick-sucking roller. Money-hungry bitch. I could see his wide eyes jumping around like a rabid animal in the rearview mirror. He was scaring me. The more he cursed me out, the more the car began to smell like liquor. It wasn’t the Ryan I knew. I had never seen him so heated before in my life. He drifted across the double lines into oncoming traffic. Horns blared.

“Ryan, watch out!” I screamed as he drove down Blair Road, swerving across the line again. “Stop!”

“Why? Your nasty ass living reckless anyway!” he yelled and veered back over. “Trick-ass bitch! I knew about Marcha, but your ass, too?”

The only person in my family who knew about me besides my cousin Marcha was Yodi—except she only knew about me stripping every now and then. I told her only cuz she ain’t judge and she knew how hard it was to put money in your pockets when you dropped out of school. Yodi ain’t know about me working the streets. I mean, I moved out on my own when I was fourteen to work for Nut. How the hell did my family think I was eating? If it wasn’t selling my body as a prostitute or stripping, then I was definitely fucking somebody who was taking care of me. Same difference. All I could think of as Ryan burned down the street was if I had a pimp, they would’ve whipped his ass for punching me. Brother or not.

When Ryan pulled up to my apartment, he ain’t even put the car in park. He just told me to go in the house, talking about he was keeping my car.

“What?” I asked, confused. What he mean he was taking my car?

He ran the car up on the curb, like I had pissed him off, fucking my tires up. Then he put the car in park, snatched me out of the backseat, and dragged me up the stairs. Tears burned my eyes. He gave me the keys to unlock my door, and my hands shook the whole time. Then he said, “Don’t even think about leaving tonight. You hear me?”

“How you gonna just take my car?” I cried.

“I should fuck you up right now. Got my friends watching your ho ass and shit! Grrrargh,” he groaned, making another fist like he was gonna hit me again. I walked backward into my apartment. He walked toward me and glared at me hard with his fists balled up. My mouth flew open, but instead of hitting me, Ryan punched a hole in my closet door. I screamed and ran to my bedroom. Instead of Ryan following me, I heard the front door slam shut. I peeked out the window and saw him pull off the curb and peel off down the street.

I took a deep breath. I looked at the splintered wood on my closet door, surprised that he was strong enough to do that kind of damage. My nose started to throb, so I went to the freezer to get some ice. Since there wasn’t a lot, I grabbed the bag of peas, and then I laid on my bed. I wanted to call Meeka to tell her I made it home okay, but I left my phone in the car. My makeshift ice pack took the pain away a little, but I popped some Tylenol and took some Ambien so I could go to sleep. I laid there replaying the night in my head, wondering how long Ryan had been at the party.
How much did he see?
I drifted asleep.

It wasn’t long before I was yanked out of my sleep by the weight of someone lying their heavy body on top of me. Strong, rough hands groped my breasts and my thighs. I struggled to fight through my grogginess, trying to push the person away. Nothing but darkness and the smell of liquor and cigarettes flooded the room. Sloppy kisses covered my face and my neck, then my breasts.

“No,” I cried out.

It was way too dark to see, but I felt the face—their eyes and nose was covered by what felt like stockings. I could feel my panties ripping off of my hips, then the violent thrust of two fingers being shoved inside of me.

“Aiiiiiiiiii,” I screamed. But I felt strapped to the bed, even though it was the force of the person holding me down with one arm. He pressed his dick against my thigh. I tried to scratch his face as he rammed harder against me. “No! Get off me, please! Get off me!” I begged so loud, I knew my neighbor had to hear me. But he ain’t stop. I scratched the stockings until I felt them shredding, then suddenly he punched me in my jaw like a man. The pain was too much, but I caught a glimpse of Ryan’s face before I passed out.

When I finally woke up, the sun was shining directly on me through slightly cracked blinds. I touched my throbbing lips, feeling the split center before I sat up. I was naked, the sheets splattered and smudged with dried blood. My nose was caked with more blood. My ripped clothes huddled like my fear in a pile on the floor. My arms felt swollen, and light-green bruises covered them. My inner thighs were sticky and tender. I softly patted them with my fingertips, screaming instantly at the horror of what he’d done. I screamed and cried until I couldn’t cry no more. Memories of us playing as kids flashed over and over in my head: Him shooting a water gun at me, us playing Red Light, Green Light. Birthdays, cookouts. Him on top of me. Him beating me until I was unconscious. The moans of pleasure that poured out his throat with every thrust. I wailed into my pillow.

After laying there for what felt like hours, I found the strength to stand up. My thighs felt bloated, and I couldn’t stand to have them brushing against one another. I took baby steps to get to the bathroom, gripping walls for support. My body too weak and sore to move faster, but I had to get it off. I had to get it off now. I ran the bathwater and cried on the toilet until the tub was full of water. I looked in the medicine cabinet and under the sink for something strong enough to erase his touch. I cried when I couldn’t find what I needed, and then finally, I half crawled to the kitchen.

Tears streamed down my cheeks as I pulled everything from the shelves and the cabinets, letting them fall wherever. I needed to get it off. I had to wipe off all the sickening stickiness he left behind. His touch. His smell. His taste. The memory of everything. I wanted it gone! I grabbed the vinegar and limped back to the bathroom. I emptied the whole bottle in the tub, the pungent odor much sweeter than Ryan’s vile stench. My body shivered thinking about what had happened. I scratched at my arms and my legs until every inch was covered with the mixed water. The stings of the vinegar seeping into my scratches hurt like hell, but I had to scrub it everywhere. If only it was a magic potion that could erase every bad thing that ever happened to me. I stared at the murky bathwater until tears clouded my vision. I wiped my face with the back of my hand just as the sudden rush and heat of something rising up from my stomach landed on the bathroom floor. I cried as I watched the yellow fluid splash everywhere, hating myself for not being stronger. Hating myself for making my brother want me. Hating myself for being alive. I hated Ryan. I hated the world. How could this happen to me?

M
e and Nausynika shared a room with two twin-sized beds at Ms. Val’s foster house on South Dakota Avenue. We was in the same sixth-grade class at school, too. Nausy was real nice to me from the start, and she bullied Taysia until she moved her seat, just so I could sit at the long rectangle table with her in the back of the classroom. Our teacher didn’t care as long as we ain’t talk. One day I noticed Nausynika rubbing her eraser back and forth in between her legs. She moaned softly for a few minutes before she stopped, looking both tired and sleepy. I thought it was weird, but I ain’t say nothing.

When Nausynika did it the next day, I wrote her a note asking her what she was doing. She didn’t write back. She just smiled. Then she put her hand in between my legs underneath my skirt. She used her fat fingers to rub circles on my coochie. My eyes grew big and slowly rolled to the ceiling. It felt soooo good, like a tickle, but warm and smushy and so much better. I ain’t want that feeling to stop. Then Nausynika slipped her finger inside my panties and pushed it in and out. A moan slipped out, and I looked around to see if anybody heard me. Nausynika warned me to be quiet with a soft
shhhh
, and then she stopped. I felt tingly. I wanted her to do it some more, but she just smiled at me. I couldn’t believe this big, fat, ugly girl could make me feel so good. I didn’t even know I could ever feel that way. I wondered if the other kids knew about that same feeling. I could tell by the silly games they kept playing on each other that they had never felt that feeling before. Now I knew why Nausy seemed so much different than the other foster kids I had met before. She knew a secret.

When we got home, Nausynika made me lay down. She climbed on top of me and used her knee to rub in between my legs. I ain’t stop her when she rubbed my chest or when she planted kisses on my neck. It felt so good. My body shivered. Me and Nausynika kept touching each other until Ms. Val came home from work. We touched each other every day. I couldn’t wait to feel that warm, tingly feeling. I ain’t even see Nausynika as ugly no more. Whenever she looked at me like she knew my secret at dinner, it made me feel silly and guilty at the same time. I giggled a lot around her. Ms. Val just called us childish and left us alone.

Before I came to Ms. Val’s, I was at the Moodys’. They was real stingy with their food. Thank God I got breakfast and lunch at school cuz I wasn’t allowed in their refrigerator. And before the Moodys, I was at the Garys’ house. Ms. Gary threw shit at me from across the room for petty mistakes I made like leaving the light on in an empty room or for accidentally leaving the door unlocked. She threw a bottle of bleach at me while I was washing dishes cuz she said I was giving her lip. It splattered all over my clothes. She made me finish washing and drying dishes even though my butt burned until I was finished. I hated Ms. Gary with a passion.

A year later, I finally went to Ms. Val’s. I liked her a lot cuz she ain’t do nothing to hurt me like the other people did. Ms. Val really understood what I was going through. She told me it was okay if I missed Mommy. “It’s absolutely normal to miss the people you love,” she said. Her and Nausynika made me feel like I was at home and not just like I was passing through or taking up unused space.

But everything changed the day we got caught fingering each other in Mr. Breyer’s classroom. There was a big meeting with the principal, the vice principal, and the counselor. Everybody was looking at us with disappointed eyes, and when Ms. Val took us home, she called us every name in the book and promised to have us separated and sent to different homes in the morning after she met with our caseworkers. Me and Nausynika stuffed our book bags with clothes and snuck out of the house as soon as we had a chance to that night. We made the long, scary walk from South Dakota Avenue all the way down to Union Station, just so we could sleep in front of the Amtrak train station.

The next day, even though we was supposed to be in school, we spent the whole day downtown, going to all the Smithsonian museums. Nobody messed with us cuz we blended in with all the tourists’ kids on their field trips. When it got late, we walked back to Union Station. My feet hurt so bad. They felt swollen and on fire, but we ain’t have no choice. I followed Nausynika. She said it wasn’t the first time she had to sleep out in the street like this. She showed me how to get free food from McDonald’s when they was about to close and throw all the leftovers away. She taught me how to wash up with nothing but paper towels and hand soap and how to beg for money with nothing but a plastic cup. All I had to do was shake it at the people getting off the Metro trains and some of them dropped money inside, just like that. We did that for three days before security started noticing our routine and followed us around Union Station, forcing us to leave.

We walked down a few blocks to the bus station on First and L Streets. The station seemed crowded with people that looked lost and alone like us. Some people tried selling CDs, socks, and umbrellas even though it ain’t rain in I don’t know how long. It was hard to sleep there cuz it was so noisy and bright. Then out of the blue, a tall dude with a thin mustache walked up to us, wearing a green Celtics hat with some long plaits peeking out. His hat matched his green-and-white striped polo shirt.

“Hey, y’all need a ride?” he asked.

“We ain’t got no money,” Nausynika said, holding her book bag tight. It was after eight o’clock. The later we stayed in the bus station, the more it seemed like nothing but suspect-looking people was coming around us. An old white man whose skin was so dingy you couldn’t even tell he was white for real sat on a chair across from us. He had like twenty raggedy plastic bags piled around him, and he kept staring at us with his see-through green eyes, looking all creepy.

“Man, you don’t need no money,” he said, smiling. “I’ll take y’all wherever you need to go. On the real, y’all look like you need to be somewhere and not hanging out here. I don’t mind helping y’all out.”

Only problem was we ain’t have nowhere to go, and I guess we looked like it cuz he said, “I know somebody worried about y’all right now. Where you supposed to be?”

Neither one of us said nothing. Nausynika shook her leg nervously like she always did and looked away.

“Listen, don’t look so sad. Why you two pretty girls looking all sad for and shit?” he said, stuffing his hands inside his pockets.

We still ain’t say nothing. I just looked down at my feet and the book bag that sat there so full that the zipper ain’t wanna stay closed.

“Listen, I’m the type of person who like to help people, and y’all just look like you need some help, for real. You ain’t gotta say nothing. I’m a good dude. Here’s my ID,” the man said, taking his wallet out.

Me and Nausynika leaned over to see Daniel Wise’s face. He ain’t have no plaits in the picture, though. I saw that he was born ten years before me and that he lived on Q Street.

“My name Daniel, but my friends call me Dizzle,” he said, smiling again, reminding me of the Cat in the Hat with his high cheeks and big grin. “I can help y’all if you want. Take you somewhere that you can get cleaned up. Maybe get y’all something to eat. What you think? Seem like y’all ain’t sleep in a nice bed in some days.”

He was right about that part. Nausynika said, “You said you gon’ feed us, too?”

He nodded. “What y’all want? It’s a Wendy’s and McDonald’s right up the street.”

“Wendy’s,” I said. I was so sick of eating McDonald’s.

“Then Wendy’s it is,” he said. “Follow me.”

Nausynika looked at me with a face that said she wasn’t sure if it was the right decision, but neither one of us wanted to get sent to yet another foster home, especially without each other. Dizzle seemed nice and didn’t look like he could hurt us. I checked his hands. Yep, his nails was clipped and clean. Mommy used to always say cleanliness is next to godliness, so I nodded at Nausynika, and then she tucked her lips back to signal that she was cool with it, too. We both stood up to follow Dizzle to his car. He walked with long, smooth strides but added a little bounce with each step.

“Hey, so what’s y’all’s name, then?” Dizzle asked us.

“I’m Nausynika, and this is Shakira.”

“Oh, okay. That might be kinda hard to remember. Is it all right if I call you Nausy and KiKi?”

We nodded and waited for this stranger to open the door to an old white Lincoln with tinted windows. His car was clean on the inside, too, so I took that as another sign that Dizzle was okay. “Hot Boyz” was playing on the radio with Missy Elliott and Eve rapping. I nodded my head to the beat and tried not to think about the risky ride me and Nausynika was taking. I wondered what she was thinking. Dizzle was true to his word when we pulled up at the Wendy’s. After me and Nausynika ordered our food, Dizzle drove down New York Avenue and turned into the parking lot of a motel. We stayed in the car while Dizzle went inside to get us a room.

“You scared?” Nausynika asked me.

“A little,” I said as I bit my lip. “You?”

She raised her shoulders quickly and let them drop just as fast. “I mean, he seems okay, I guess.”

I ain’t never in my life stayed in a motel before, but then I ain’t never sleep at a train station before, either. If she wasn’t scared, I wasn’t gon’ be scared. We stared out the window without saying another word, waiting for Dizzle to come back. I wondered what Nausynika was really thinking.

“I got y’all’s room,” he said, showing the room key. He parked near the back of the parking lot, and then we climbed out of Dizzle’s car, following him to our room that was on the second floor. He unlocked the door and stepped back so we could go in first. There was only one big bed with a burgundy blanket drenched in flowers.

“I could only get y’all a queen-size bed. Is that okay?”

Nausynika shrugged.

“Okay, good. Here’s a nice-size TV, and there’s the bathroom over there. You might as well put your stuff in the drawers. I know you tired of carrying them bags around.”

Nausynika sat on the edge of the bed and looked around.

“Well, I’m not gon’ stay long. Y’all go ’head and get comfortable. I’ma write my number on this pad,” Dizzle said, scribbling, “then I’ma get outta here. If y’all need something, let me know. Here’s twenty dollars so you can order something to eat later, too.”

He laid the money by the pad.

“Thank you for helping us,” I said.

“Not a problem. But really…don’t feel like you have to leave. I know how it is when you ain’t got no place to go.” He locked his eyes with mine. “I ran away before, too, and know for a fact how dangerous it is out there. People don’t care about you and want whatever you got. Even if they have to take it from you.”

My heart skipped.

“Anyway, y’all take care, okay?”

Dizzle closed the door with that same smile he introduced hisself with. We both let out a deep breath. Seemed like we had been holding it ever since we left Ms. Val’s.

“Can you believe this?” I said, my eyes bigger than usual. I felt like it was our lucky day.

“Girl, I don’t know about you, but I’m taking a bath!” Nausynika shouted and ran to the bathroom.

“Hurry up because I’m right behind you.”

I laid back on the bed and stretched my arms and feet out as far as I could, and then I reached over and cut the TV on. Before I knew it, I had fallen asleep. When I woke up, I saw the sun shining through a crack in the curtains. I looked at the clock and then at Nausynika laying under the blanket beside me. She could’ve woke me up so I could take my bath last night. I rolled out the bed and went to the bathroom. After I ran the bathwater, I emptied the free shampoo bottle in the tub for some bubbles. I felt so grimy. I couldn’t have been there long before Nausynika woke up and stood in the doorway.

“What we gon’ do today?” she asked.

I shrugged my shoulders.

“We got twenty more dollars than we did yesterday,” she said, snapping the bill Dizzle left us.

“Yeah, but don’t we gotta make it last?”

She rolled her eyes and left the bathroom. “But I’m hungry!” she yelled.

“Your ass always hungry,” I mumbled into the bubbles.

Just as I finished washing up and wrapping the towel around myself, we heard a knock at the door. Nausynika looked out the window.

“Oh! It’s Dizzle with Burger King, girl!”

She unlocked and opened the door. I stepped back in the bathroom and looked through the half-cracked door.

“I thought y’all might be hungry. Hope you like French toast sticks and orange juice,” Dizzle said.

“Sure do!” Nausynika said, taking the bag.

“Cool. I’m not gon’ stay long, but I just thought y’all might want to go see that new Martin Lawrence movie later. What’s it called again? Damn, I can’t remember,” he said, looking stuck.


Big Momma’s House
?” I asked, smiling.

“Yeah, that’s it. Y’all down?”

Nausynika smiled, too. Ms. Val said she wasn’t gonna take us to see it cuz it was PG-13 and I was just eleven and Nausynika was twelve. But I was about to be twelve, and everybody said we looked at least fifteen, especially since I already had breasts as big as girls in high school. Ms. Val said my shape was too much for my age, so she made sure if I wasn’t in my school uniform that I was in clothes she said I could grow into. It ain’t make me no difference as long as I had clothes that was mine and not another foster kid who I had to share with like at the other places.

Dizzle took us to the movies all the way out Marlow Heights later that day, and the next day he took us to the skating rink off of Branch Avenue. When he showed up the day after that, saying we was gonna go to the ESPN Zone for lunch downtown, we couldn’t believe our luck. It was like this for the rest of the week. The way he looked out for me reminded me of Ryan. Everywhere we went he made sure I had what I needed and what I wanted. He even took us to Rainbow on H Street to get three outfits apiece. But it was a couple days later, after we went to Dave and Buster’s, that changed our lives forever.

 

Dizzle said he was too tired to drive home. We had been out all day, chilling at Anacostia Park. He had a little grill that he used to cook us hot dogs and burgers while we laid on a blanket from his trunk and listened to the radio coming from his car. It was a hot day, the kind where the air was too muggy and thick to breathe. Seemed like all our energy was drained when we finally left the park. By the time we got back to the motel, I couldn’t wait to climb in the bed and go to sleep.

BOOK: Shattered
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