La Familia 2 Read Free

being the loud and obnoxious bitch she always was. “I know he can fuck a bitch right. That bitch Tahiry don’t know what do wit’ that dick, because she can’t even hold on to her man.”
    The girls around her laughed at her blunt comment. I wasn’t amused.
    â€œYo, I can’t stand Erica trifling-ass. First off, that bitch can’t sing for shit, and she’s a fuckin’ slut,” Whitney chimed.
    â€œTrue dat,” Melanie agreed, slapping Whitney a high five.
    They talked reckless about the female characters on the show, but in true life, they envied them all because it wasn’t them living the life of luxury, having great sex, and going on lavish shopping sprees. Some of these ladies in the shelter were so broke down and battered that even a miracle couldn’t help them out.
    I watched the show, but I was in my own world. Eliza was asleep in my arms. I had just fed and bathed her, and now it was time for a little “me” time. But me time was useless when a bitch was broke, homeless, and with a baby on her hip twenty-four/seven. So me time was watching cable quietly while everyone else talked loudly and ridiculed each and every bitch on the show they deemed not keeping it real or was a whore.
    During a commercial break, one of the young girls in the shelter came into the TV room looking upset. I saw her wipe a few tears from her eyes as she went toward some friends seated in the room. My focus went from the television to them knowing something went down somewhere. I knew the girl with the tears streaming down her face. She was a teen mother with twin girls and she was from my part of town, Edenwald. She was known to run with some heavy hitters on the streets. Her parents had kicked her out for selling drugs in their apartment. She was fighting with her parents for custody of her twins.
    I overheard her say, “They killed String; they killed my fuckin’ cousin!”
    She was clearly upset and distraught. I knew String. He was part of a violent gang who called themselves the Young Gangster Crew, YGC, and they were at war with the Bronx Mafia Boys. That bit of news became more important in the room than Love & Hip Hop. Majority of the girls in the Harlem shelter came from the Bronx and we all had boyfriends, brothers, cousins, uncles, fathers, or baby fathers associated with the streets, drugs, or a violent gang, and murder wasn’t anything new to us.
    They said the murders were on the news; three men were gunned down in cold blood while leaving a KFC late at night. But that was life in the Bronx and I felt immune to the news. My father was gunned down in the same fashion.
    I didn’t have time to console anyone or get more information on what happened. I simply didn’t care. I figured my heart just grew colder in the past year. Not anyone gave a fuck about me or my daughter, so why should I give a fuck about another life being snatched from this cold, hard earth? It was life; you have a birthday and a death day. While a few girls shed tears for String and his friends, I removed myself from my chair with my daughter asleep in my arms and decided to head into my room for the night. I had enough troubles on my mind and I didn’t need anyone else’s problems coming my way.
    However, as I was about to exit the TV room, I saw one of my headaches and continuing problems coming my way. Her name was Dietra; the bitch was walking hate. She was somewhat heavyset, black like tar and ugly like hell with a bad weave in her head and a constant attitude aimed my way. She didn’t like me and I didn’t like her. The main reason for her animosity toward me was she was Denise’s older cousin. I beat the bitch down in front of the whole projects last year, and then Sammy and my homegirls put that bitch in the hospital over a year ago. She wanted revenge for her cousin, and she wanted to take it out on me.
    But there was one golden rule in the