Yellow Ghost: La Femme Selita Prequel Read Free Page A

will dead when she is put in the ground.
    I refuse to cry for her. I’m not going to shed one single tear. It doesn’t matter. She doesn’t matter. I had only seen her a few times since she let me be taken into foster care. Now I have no blood relatives left. My granddad is dead. My grandma is dead. My Ma-, Martika is dead.
    My father made me come to see her body at the funeral home. He is paying someone to bury her. He said she doesn’t have any relatives. I’m her only living relative he tells me. I already knew that.
    He said the county would have burned her body if he didn’t claim her. He said she deserves a proper burial. I say who gives a shit.
    Why would he want to claim a prostitute junkie? I wouldn’t. Why does he even care about her at all? I wonder why? I really did wonder. She probably did some of her nasty hoe tricks on him.
    Father and I were the only ones seated in the quiet funeral chapel. We sat for what seemed like forever. Mae marched in and looked into Martika’s casket. I knew she knew my mother but she always acted like she didn’t like her. So what is she doing here?
    Mae was dressed in a long black dress. This was the only time I saw Mae covered on top. She barely wore any clothes. Her boobies were always sticking out but today she was dressed like my grandma. Back when grandma was alive and took me to church. I miss my grandma and granddad. I just don’t miss Martika.
    This strange lady’s dead body was lying there in the casket in front of us.
    She didn’t look dead. She looked sleep. She looked frozen. She was dressed in all white. My Father picked the dress. I saw it hanging in our house yesterday. I wonder why he cares about Martika. I don’t. She died a long time ago as far as I’m concerned. I don’t need a mother. I have a father. I have my Dragon.
    “You need to say goodbye to your mother.”
    I felt my eyes squint. Did he really expect me to walk up to that casket and look at her?
    Father scolded me with his eyes. “Talk to your mother. This is the last time you will see her. Tell her whatever you need to say. This is your last chance.”
    He placed his hand on my shoulder. That meant get off your butt. I stood. What would I say to her? I could say I hate you. I could ask her why she let them take me? I could…
    I hadn’t realized my feet had carried me to her casket. I could see her up close. She was still very pretty but her skin was gray. Her hair was shiny and longer than I remembered. I fought the urge to cry. Why would I cry for her? She would never cry for me.
    Crying is a sign of weakness. I don’t know why I feel this way but I do. One tear escaped before I could contain it. Father couldn’t see it. There will not be another. I refuse I shed another for her.
    Why is my heart beating so fast? I need to go sit down next to father but I can’t move. My legs feel heavy. I hate you Martika! I hate you Martika! I’m just glad my Father can’t hear me cuss you in my head.
    It’s getting harder and harder to remember the good times. She would take me for ice cream. She would bring me books. She would sing to me when she gave me baths. That’s only if the water was working. She had a beautiful voice to match her beautiful face and that was probably the problem.
    Why did Martika have to do drugs? I will never ever do drugs. I will never be a hoe. I will never be anything like Martika. I am no longer a Hilton. That name means nothing to me. I want to be a Hiroshima.
     
     
     

BROTHER DEAREST
     
    12 YEARS OLD
     
    I was twelve years old when I met my brother. A stupid brother I never knew existed. My Father could keep secrets.
    This boy was four years older than me. Father explained that he was adopted just like me. I asked why he didn’t have any real children of his own. Father told me long ago his wife died during childbirth. He believed he was cursed because if it. It didn’t really make sense to me but it was clear he believed it to be so.
    I was told the boy