though. So because she wouldn’t hear it, she got her ass tagged. I tried to warn her that she didn’t want none of this shit but she kept yapping off at the mouth. This is what happens when a bitch ran off at the mouth too much.
“Bitch and if you come at me again, I’m gonna cut your ass.” I removed the small blade from my hair shoving it to her eyes to see. “You see this shit bitch?”
“Yeah, yeah,” she gurgled through the blood spewing from her mouth.
“Good.” My hand shoved her head into the ground as I stood up from sitting on her body. “Any of you hoes want some?”
Everyone backed away. One of her friends was recording the entire thing but didn’t lift a finger to jump in and help. None of the four girls she had brought with her to my doorstep had helped her. Instead, they stood around laughing like it was a sideshow attraction. That stupid bitch didn’t even have enough since to bring some ‘bout it friends to the fight. Stupid ass. I went back into my house slamming the door behind me giving the crowd the hint to disperse.
“What’s going on out there, Daisy?” Momma asked slew footing it towards the kitchen headed for the refrigerator.
“Same ol’ shit momma. Same ol' shit.” I shook my head as I took a seat at the island counter.
“Ooo, girl. You’d better watch your mouth up in here.” Momma turned around shooting me the one eyebrow raised look.
“My bad momma. I’m just tired of these chicks always trying to pull it with me because they can’t keep their niggas in check.” I buried my head in my hands plopping them all on the table.
“Awe baby. You are a very hot commodity. Look at how beautiful you are. You’re an almond flavored 5’5” African goddess. In Africa, you would be consider very wealthy because at 195 pounds of juicy chunkiness, you are they consider you sexy and beautiful. A woman with meat on her bones is said to be eating good, which means she's wealthy.” Momma snapped her fingers before pouring a glass of orange juice and fixing her pink terry cloth robe around her waist. “But most importantly, you’re Daisy Faye and girls feel threatened by someone way above their level. Girl, you get it from your momma of course. Embrace that beauty girl.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. That lady was straight crazy. My mother was forty-eight and a beautiful mocha skinned African queen. She migrated to the states with her parents years ago from Nigeria in West Africa. Often she spoke highly of the Hausa tribe she was from and always wanted me to go back to learn more about the culture.
My dad was an African American born citizen on the other hand and a simple factory worker where he met my mom. She finished college and began working there within six months of graduation as a payroll clerk. Daddy used to say even though they were from two different worlds, when they met they just clicked. But according to his mom, no one was ever good enough for her son. So I didn’t associate with that part of my family at all. However, having recently moved back in with momma from the dorms after graduating from Chicago State last month, we were really becoming close.
“So, did you mess with her man?” Momma took a sip from her cup eyeing me from the top of it.
“No, momma. You know me better than that,” I laughed slapping my hand on the table. “You know who they were here for.”
“Yes, yes. I don't see how you have friends like that but that's none of my never mind. Anyway, I know my baby is a good girl saving herself for Mr. Right. But even the one you think is right could be wrong baby. I just don’t want you to end up getting hurt thinking that you’ve found the right guy and he turns out to be an asshole once you drop him the goodies.” She winked her eye.
I loved her knowledge and almost always listened. I looked down at the plastic slip covered thesis from my dissertation with a few yellow sticky notes on it. Attending Chicago State University may not
“Bitch and if you come at me again, I’m gonna cut your ass.” I removed the small blade from my hair shoving it to her eyes to see. “You see this shit bitch?”
“Yeah, yeah,” she gurgled through the blood spewing from her mouth.
“Good.” My hand shoved her head into the ground as I stood up from sitting on her body. “Any of you hoes want some?”
Everyone backed away. One of her friends was recording the entire thing but didn’t lift a finger to jump in and help. None of the four girls she had brought with her to my doorstep had helped her. Instead, they stood around laughing like it was a sideshow attraction. That stupid bitch didn’t even have enough since to bring some ‘bout it friends to the fight. Stupid ass. I went back into my house slamming the door behind me giving the crowd the hint to disperse.
“What’s going on out there, Daisy?” Momma asked slew footing it towards the kitchen headed for the refrigerator.
“Same ol’ shit momma. Same ol' shit.” I shook my head as I took a seat at the island counter.
“Ooo, girl. You’d better watch your mouth up in here.” Momma turned around shooting me the one eyebrow raised look.
“My bad momma. I’m just tired of these chicks always trying to pull it with me because they can’t keep their niggas in check.” I buried my head in my hands plopping them all on the table.
“Awe baby. You are a very hot commodity. Look at how beautiful you are. You’re an almond flavored 5’5” African goddess. In Africa, you would be consider very wealthy because at 195 pounds of juicy chunkiness, you are they consider you sexy and beautiful. A woman with meat on her bones is said to be eating good, which means she's wealthy.” Momma snapped her fingers before pouring a glass of orange juice and fixing her pink terry cloth robe around her waist. “But most importantly, you’re Daisy Faye and girls feel threatened by someone way above their level. Girl, you get it from your momma of course. Embrace that beauty girl.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. That lady was straight crazy. My mother was forty-eight and a beautiful mocha skinned African queen. She migrated to the states with her parents years ago from Nigeria in West Africa. Often she spoke highly of the Hausa tribe she was from and always wanted me to go back to learn more about the culture.
My dad was an African American born citizen on the other hand and a simple factory worker where he met my mom. She finished college and began working there within six months of graduation as a payroll clerk. Daddy used to say even though they were from two different worlds, when they met they just clicked. But according to his mom, no one was ever good enough for her son. So I didn’t associate with that part of my family at all. However, having recently moved back in with momma from the dorms after graduating from Chicago State last month, we were really becoming close.
“So, did you mess with her man?” Momma took a sip from her cup eyeing me from the top of it.
“No, momma. You know me better than that,” I laughed slapping my hand on the table. “You know who they were here for.”
“Yes, yes. I don't see how you have friends like that but that's none of my never mind. Anyway, I know my baby is a good girl saving herself for Mr. Right. But even the one you think is right could be wrong baby. I just don’t want you to end up getting hurt thinking that you’ve found the right guy and he turns out to be an asshole once you drop him the goodies.” She winked her eye.
I loved her knowledge and almost always listened. I looked down at the plastic slip covered thesis from my dissertation with a few yellow sticky notes on it. Attending Chicago State University may not
Similar Books
Ole Doc Methuselah
L. Ron Hubbard
Sweet Hell on Fire
Sara Lunsford
Anzac's Dirty Dozen
Craig Stockings
Riptide
Cherry Adair
The Life and Times of Innis E. Coxman
R. P. Lester
FriendlySeduction
Gillian Archer
Justice Falling
Audrey Carlan
Agent X
Noah Boyd
Savage Smoke
Kay Dee Royal
