Part 29

Part 29

My first seven months of being a free woman, I spent laid up in a hospital recovering from loads of psychological issues, and the drug addiction that was forced on me. I'm grateful that all tests from the night I was admitted, up until today has been negative across the board. I spent most of my days with therapist and when I wasn't with them I was studying for my GED  test. Of course a GED wasn't what I wanted but under the circumstances, I'm willing to earn whatever I can, as fast as I can. I have a bright future ahead of me and the universe has given me a third try at this thing called life. I plan to live the hell out of it.

During this time I haven't seen or heard anything from King. I guess him saving me was all he's willing to offer, knowing all the things I had to go through was maybe too much for him. I can't blame him, who wants a woman that's been abused as much as I have, most men would end up using someone like me because of my past. It would make the normal, average woman second guess her existence, but not me. I'm still the same person I was before this all happened, the only difference for me is that I'm wiser now. I know not to make the same foolish mistake by showing people how to hustle, or letting my guard down for anyone. While I’m thinking of my next moves, the door open opens slowly. I was trying to see who it was taking their time to come in. Deep down inside, I was hoping it was King. My stomach is in knots then the door stops and closes. I wanted to scream and ask who’s playing with my emotions. The door starts to open again, I sat up straight trying to straighten up my gown so I can look presentable. I started to smile before I could see anyone, the excitement was killing me. I couldn’t take it anymore and I yelled out for King; instead it was my counselor, father, and mother. Feeling like a little child, I sink into my bed, wishing they would just leave. I wasn't ready for this intervention, it’s too soon and too much.

"You know what the biggest problem here is Doctor? Don't answer, it's a rhetorical question. The problem is, I told you that I didn't want to see them, but you invited them down here anyway."

"No matter how old you think you are, we're still your parents." My mother said with the “fuck you, pay me” attitude.

"The nerve of you both, walking in here like someone owes you something. I don't owe you shit and you sure as hell don't owe me anything. So at any time, the both of you can exit."

“Little girl, don’t talk to your mother like that.” My father said getting closer to my bed.

“My mother? You talking about the one that tortured me because your sorry ass raped me? The one that should’ve helped me, instead of being jealous of me. I don’t respect y’all, you lost that right when this shit started to spiral out of control. I don’t need you, either of you. With all the respect I can muster up, please leave; and never come back, ever!”

My mother’s face twisted up the way it did when I told her about her sorry ass husband. I was still connected to an IV but would be glad to rip this shit out of my arm if she steps for me. I know it’s wrong to feel this way about your parents, I know but, I just can’t help it. They never apologized at the least, instead they insist on me respecting them because they spawned me. I’m not saying I don’t love them because I do, I would rather never see them again if I had my choice. My mother and I looking at one another without saying a word, it’s like I’m waiting here wishing she would do something so I can close the deal on her. I will not be affected by the mannerism of others or the way they see things. The same people that raised me the right way, went completely in the opposite direction. Then it came to me, is it possible that they started to use drugs, could that be the common denominator that bought them to this point? It could be, but I don’t rightfully care, it’s not my problem. My father started talking to the counselor asking her to give us a minute. No sooner than that question ended, the door swings open.

“If you want dead bodies on your hands Doctor, then go ahead, and walk out that door. If not, keep your ass put!”

Taking my eyes off of my mother it was like being in a dimly lit room, my heart is pounding like it’s being ripped from my chest. I don’t know if I was crying because of fear or just the mere fact he showed his face again.