Page 21 of Mr. Calloway

Still unsure how to handle his new change, he ran off. He ran her so far off that he could no longer think. With scattered brains and a broken heart, all he could do was pray she would return….

Z, I can’t believe we’re having twins. Two little niggas growing inside who need their father just as much as they need you. I didn’t have a family, and I’ll be damned if my boys don’t. I will always be there for you guys, even if you push me away. Z, you got my fucking kids in you, and you walk away from me! Baby, there is no escaping this boy you changed into a man.

Shit, alright, let me calm down… A nigga is sorry, and whatever it is I got to do to fix it, I’ll do it. Even if it means I have to try to get along with that bitch-ass nigga Bishop.

Z, you left me after you promised you wouldn’t do that. I was upset. I was trying to figure out how to tell you that you were married to a nigga with no name. You know how that shit feels? My kids have no fucking name, but it isn’t your fault. It’s mine because, as much as I want to be the perfect nigga for you, the truth is I’m not.

That dinner with the Merciers, it… It was bad, Z. It was so bad that I ended up beating Clark’s ass. He told me I was a fucking John Doe; he told me about my mother, and I… I lost it. I… want his ass dead. Why was I chosen for this?

I swore my kids would have me around, so you being gone is only temporary. I’m just tired, baby. I can’t take this shit! Z, I’m about to paint this muhfucka orange if you don’t come back to me. This shit isn’t even a letter anymore because I can’t even think.

I love you, girl. I love you so deeply that I will walk the streets until I find you.

Come home, please.

Signed,

A broken nigga with no name

My body joltedup as I gasped to suck in air. My eyes were open, but it was dark. So dark that if I held out my hand, I still couldn’t see. Panic set in because I didn’t know where I was or how long I had been out. What I did know was that my mother was behind whatever this was.

“Breathe, Samara. Just breathe. Chevy and Dio will find you,” I mumbled to myself.

The sound of wood screeching emerged, and I started to shout. “Get me the fuck out of here!” I screamed. “Stranger fucking danger!”

Footsteps seemed to be coming closer, but then suddenly stopped. The remaining sunset light entered the space, revealing my mother standing nearby, holding a small tray.

“Yelling won't make anyone happy enough to let you out of here,” she told me as she crouched in front of me.

“You’re a psycho. Let me out of here now!”

“I guess you should love me as much then. Isn’t that boy the same way?”

I heckled. “And is. And when he gets here, he’s going to tear all this shit up. I knew I couldn’t trust you.”

“But you did. Samara Simmino. I’m still your mother. Show me some fucking respect!” she snapped.

I couldn’t believe her. How did she believe I would show her respect after what she had done? I stared into her eyes, but they were empty, just like all the promises she had made to be an actual mother.

When she leaned in closer, I smiled, opened my mouth, and spat right in her face. “Respect that!”

That was when she drew her hand back and hit me.

Slap!

My eyes widened, and before I could utter a word, she stood, leaving the small ration of food and water and placing me back in the dark.

As the sound of the wood screeching filled the space again, I could hear her talking. “Those Calloways will not find you, so you better realize I am your only savior. You are my child. Remember that.”

Everything that led up to this moment replayed in my head. I felt so stupid for even thinking my mother had a care in the world for me when she never cared at all. This was the vulnerable part of me that fed into her bullshit, all because that tiny piece of me had hope that somewhere in her heart, there was love for the little girl who still wanted her mother’s love.

I didn’t want to cry. I didn’t want to scream. All I wanted was to be with my chosen family, who truly gave a fuck about a little black girl lost.

June

“You look amazing, girl,” Zaria said to Indigo.

Since being in rehab and coming back, she seemed to be doing better. Her face was blemish-free, she had gained a little weight, and her smile seemed genuine. However, I wasn’t sure if she was fully mentally stable enough to have the type of conversation I wanted to have.