A Girl From Flint

by Treasure Hernandez

  A GIRL FROM FLINT

  TREASURE HERNANDEZ

  www.urbanbooks.net

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Epilogue

  Copyright Page

  Prologue

  Karma is what put me in that hellhole. I don’t even know how I ended up in jail. A couple of years ago, I was on top of the world. I’ve had more money flow through my hands than most people ever see in their entire lives. I was the woman that everybody wanted, and I had my way with some of the richest men in the Midwest. From prestigious businessmen to the most ’hood-rich niggas in Flint, I’ve had them all. We thought it was a game, and in a way, it was. We were trained to be the best. Skilled in the art of seduction, we were professionals who knew how to please in every sexual way. In my family, the mentality was if you ain’t fucking, you don’t eat.

  Growing up in the ’hood, I had to use what I had to get what I wanted. My pussy was my meal ticket, and in order to stay on top, I juiced every nigga green to the game. I felt like if a dude was stupid enough to let me trick him out of his dough, then he deserved to get got. “Fuck me, pay me!” was our motto, and I used to laugh when my girls used to shout that after we hustled men out of their money.

  It’s not quite as funny these days though. Now I’ve got a prison sentence hanging over my head, and I’m locked in this cage like an animal. I haven’t washed my hair in months, and I’m looking over my shoulder every minute of every day, hoping these bitches in here won’t try to get at me. I don’t know; maybe it was my destiny. With all the wrong that I’ve done, all that shit came back like a boomerang and hit me harder than I could have ever imagined. I sit in this jailcell every day, wondering how I landed in a state prison—a maximum-security state prison at that.

  When I heard the judge say those words, it brought tears to my eyes. It was like a nightmare, and I was dreaming about my worst fear, only I couldn’t wake up. It was real, and there was no waking up from it.

  My downfall was . . . well, you’ll learn about that later.

  From the very beginning of my life, I was headed in a downward spiral. My mother is a crack fiend, and I haven’t seen or spoken to her in years. I never knew my father. He died before I got the chance to get to know him. I hear that he really loved me, but the fact that he wasn’t in my life affected me. I never had that male figure in my life, and that pains me greatly.

  As you read this novel, understand that this is what happened to me, and that everything that you do has its consequences.

  I remember we would talk about opening up our own salon and not needing a nigga to support us. That was before my life got complicated. Believe me, if I could turn back the hands of time, I would have never stepped foot in the murder capital, Flint, Michigan.

  Yeah, that was the first of our mistakes. Honey made it seem so live, so wonderful. I thought it was the city that would make all my dreams come true. The truth of the matter is, everyone in that damn city has hidden agendas and is looking for a way to get paid, by any means necessary. I was a little girl trying to do big things in a small city. I should’ve just kept my ass in good ol’ New York.

  Me and my girls thought we were the shit. We got whatever we wanted, when we wanted it, from dick to pocketbooks, even first-class vacations around the world. We used men until their pockets ran out, and when we were done, we tossed them aside and moved along to the next one. Some people may call us hoes, gold-diggers, or even high-paid prostitutes, but nah, it wasn’t like that. It was our hustle, and trust me, it paid well . . . very well.

  I wish I could go back to the good ol’ days when we used to smoke weed in Amra’s room and open the windows so Ms. Pat wouldn’t find out. Or the days when we used to lie about staying the night over each other’s house so we could go to parties and stay out all night. Those are the memories that make this place bearable. Those are the times that I reflect on when I get depressed and when life seems unfair. The times when it was just me, Honey, Amra, and Mimi, the original Manolo Mamis.

  There have been many after us, but none like us. All them other bitches are just watered-down versions of what we used to be. That’s who we were, that was our clique. That’s the friendship that I miss, and think about when I feel lonely. The thought of how close we used to be is something I will cherish forever.

  I know I’m rambling on and on about me and my girlfriends. You are probably wondering, Bitch, how did you end up in jail?

  Damn, I’m so busy trying to tell y’all what happened, I forgot to introduce myself. I know y’all wanna read about Sunshine and Shai and all that high school bullshit, but let me get my piece off first. I promise you, you won’t be disappointed. I’m Tasha, and this is my Flint story.

  Chapter One

  1994

  As Lisa looked into the mirror, she could not recognize the eyes that stared back at her. Everything started running through her mind all at once. She thought about the loss of her only love, Ray, his death, and about their creation, Tasha. Tasha was the only positive thing in her life. Her bloodshot eyes stared into the mirror as she looked into her lifeless soul and began to cry.

  Lisa tied a brown leather belt around her arm and began to slap her inner arm with two fingers, desperately searching for a vein. As the tears of guilt streamed down her face, she looked at the heroin-filled needle on the sink and reached for it. She hated that she had this terrible habit, but it called for her. She wasn’t shooting up to get high anymore; she was doing it to feel better. She needed the drug. She tried to resist it, but the drug called out to her more and more. When she wasn’t high, she was sick and in tremendous pain, and her body fiended for it.

  She injected the dope into her vein, and a warm sensation traveled up her arm. The tears seemed to stop instantly, and her frail body slowly slumped to the floor, her eyes staring up into space. All of Lisa’s emotions and her negative thoughts slowly escaped her mind as she began to smirk. She could not shake this habit that a former boyfriend had introduced her to, and her weekend binges eventually became an addiction.

  Her addiction affected her life, as well as her daughter’s. All of her welfare checks sponsored the local dope man’s chrome rims, ice, and pocket money. Her life started going downhill after the death of Raymond Parks, better known as Ray.

  It was 1982, the era of pimping. Lisa was fifteen when she met Ray, who was twenty-one at the time and a known pimp in the area. Ray approached Lisa while she was walking to the store. He pulled up and slyly said, “Hey, sweetness. Wanna ride?”

  Lisa paid him no mind and kept walking. She started switching her ass a little harder while walking, knowing she had an audience. She pretended not to be flattered by the older man, and flipped her blond, sandy-brown hair.

  Ray parked his long Cadillac at the corner and stepped his shiny gators onto the streets of Queens. He took his time, and eventually caught up with the thick young woman with hazel eyes. He slid in front of Lisa, blocking her path. “Hello, beautiful. My name is Raymond, but my friends call me Ray. I wouldn’t have forgiven myself if I didn’t take the time out t
o meet you.” Ray stuck out his hand and offered a handshake.

  Lisa looked up and saw a tall, lean, brown-skinned young man. She couldn’t stop her lips from spreading, and she unleashed her pretty smile. She shook his hand and said with a shaky voice, “I’m Lisa.”

  Raymond smiled and stared into her eyes. Lisa stared back, and her eyes couldn’t seem to leave his. He knew he had her when he saw that all too familiar look in her eyes. He asked in a smooth, calm voice, “Can I take you out sometime?”

  “My mama might not like that.”

  Ray smiled. “Just let me handle her. So, can I take you out sometime or what?”

  Lisa blushed. “Yeah, I guess that’ll be alright.”

  Raymond gave her his number and asked her how old she was. Lisa told him that she was only fifteen. Ray’s facial expression dropped, disappointed to know she was so young. He didn’t usually approach girls her age, but she had an adult body, and was by far the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. He grabbed her hand, looked at her, and told her to give him a call so he could pick her up later that day.

  Lisa watched Ray get into his car and pull off. She couldn’t stop smiling to herself as she continued to walk to the store. He was a fly brother. I hope my momma lets me go. She hurried to the store so she could get home and call Ray. She knew that it would take a miracle for her to get her mother’s approval, but as fine as Ray was, she was definitely going to try.

  Lisa called Ray later that evening, and an hour later he was at her front door with a dozen roses in each hand.

  Lisa’s mother answered the door and was impressed by the well-dressed young man that stood before her. She noticed he wasn’t around Lisa’s age and became skeptical about letting him in.

  Ray sensed the vibe and quickly worked his magic. He handed the flowers to her and took off his hat to show respect. He didn’t get to take Lisa out that night. He and Lisa’s mother talked, and he charmed her for hours. He barely spoke to Lisa the entire evening. A professional at sweet-talking, he knew that to get Lisa, he had to get her mother first.

  As the night came to an end, Ray said good-bye to Lisa’s mother and asked if Lisa could walk him to his car. She agreed, and they exited the house.

  Lisa and Ray stood in the driveway. He took her by the hand and said, “I never saw a lady so fly. I want you to be mine . . . eventually. What school do you go to?”

  “McKinley.”

  Ray shook his head, then said in a soft voice, “I know where that’s at. I’ll pick you up after school tomorrow, okay?”

  Lisa started to cheese. “Really?”

  He grabbed Lisa’s head, kissed her forehead softly, and whispered, “See you tomorrow.”

  She turned around and entered her mother’s house, and Ray took off as soon as he saw that she got in safely.

  The next day, Ray was parked outside of the high school in his Cadillac, waiting for his new “pretty young thang” as he called her. When she got into the car, Ray smiled at her. “Hello, beautiful. How was your day?”

  From that day on, Ray and Lisa were together. He took her on shopping sprees weekly, and she was happy with her man. He never asked for sex and never rushed or pressured her in any way. Lisa wondered why the subject never came up, and wondered if he was physically attracted to her. Ray was very much attracted to her, but he’d promised himself he wouldn’t touch her until she was eighteen. He had his hoes and women all over town, so sex was never an issue.

  Lisa knew about his other women and his line of work, but never complained. Ray took care of her and treated her like a queen at all times. Over time, she fell deeply in love with him and never had a desire to mess with any other man.

  Ray always made sure she had whatever she wanted, and that she went to school every day. If she didn’t do well in school, her gifts would stop, so Lisa became a very good student.

  Occasionally, Ray would help Lisa’s mother with bills and put food in their refrigerator. Ray had money . . . real money. He was a pimp with hoes all over the city. He wasn’t the type to put his hands on a woman. He made exceptions for the hoes that played with his chips or disrespected him. But in general, he had mind control over many women, so violence was rarely needed.

  Exactly one month after her eighteenth birthday, Lisa found out she was pregnant with Ray’s child. She couldn’t believe she had gotten knocked up on her first time, but when she told him, he was the happiest man on earth. Lisa dropped out of school, and Ray immediately moved her from her mother’s house and into his plush home in the suburbs.

  He used to put his head on Lisa’s stomach every night and tended to her every need. He promised that when he saved up enough money, he would open a business and exit the pimping game.

  Eight months into her pregnancy, Lisa began to become jealous of Ray and all his women, and confronted him about it.

  Ray reacted in a way that Lisa never saw. He raised his voice and said, “Don’t worry about me and my business! You just have my baby, girl, and stand by yo’ man!” He stormed out of the house and slammed the front door.

  Lisa felt bad for confronting him and began to cry. She cried for hours, because she’d upset the only man she ever loved. Ray was all she knew. She stayed up and waited for his return, but he never came back.

  That night, Ray went around town to collect his money from his workers. He was upset with himself for raising his voice at Lisa. He’d never yelled at her before, so it was really bothering him.

  He pulled his Cadillac onto York Avenue and saw one of his best workers talking with a heavyset man, about to turn a trick. He thought to himself, Make that cheddar, Candy. He decided to wait until Candy finished her business before collecting from her. He sat back in his seat, turned the ignition off, and listened to the smooth sounds of the Isley Brothers, and slowly rocked his head. He looked back at Candy, and noticed that she and the man were entering a car parked on the opposite side of the street. Candy was his “bottom bitch”. She always kept cash flowing and never took days off. He smiled. Candy’s going to make that fool cum in thirty seconds.

  Suddenly, he saw Candy jump out of the car, spitting and screaming at the man. She walked toward the sidewalk spitting. The man jumped out of the car and started to yell at her, and yelled even louder when she kept on walking.

  At this point, Ray calmly stepped out of the car and began to head toward her. The man had gotten to Candy and began to grab her and was screaming at the top of his lungs. Ray approached the man from behind and grabbed him. “Relax! Relax!”

  “Mind yo’ fucking business, playa! This bitch is trying to juke me out of my money!”

  “Daddy Ray, he pissed in my mouth! He didn’t say shit about pissing. I don’t get down like that.”

  Before Ray could say anything, the man lunged at Candy, slamming her head hard into the brick wall she was leaning on. Ray immediately grabbed the man by the neck and began to choke him. His fingers wrapped tightly around his neck, Ray whispered to him, “Never put your hands on my hoes. If I see you around here again, it’s you and me, youngblood.” Ray released the man, and he dropped to the ground, trying to catch his breath. Ray stood over the man and pulled out a money clip full of cash. “How much did you give her?”

  “Forty. I gave her forty,” the man said, rubbing his neck.

  Ray peeled off two twenties and threw it at the man and told him to get the fuck out of his office. The man took the money and ran to his car and pulled off.

  Ray then turned around to help Candy up. She was lying motionless. He quickly bent down to aid her and noticed she wasn’t breathing. He started to shake her and call her name, “Candy! Candy!” He got no response.

  He gave her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, and she began to breathe lightly. He knew he had to get her to the hospital, but he didn’t want to be the one to take her in. It would raise suspicion if a known pimp brought a half-dressed hooker in, barely breathing and battered. He decided to search her purse to see if he could find a number for someone that she kn
ew, so that they could check her into the hospital.

  As soon as he stuck his hand in her purse, he saw flashing lights, and heard a man on a bullhorn telling him to put his hands up. Then another police car pulled up. Ray stood up, both of his hands in the air.

  One of the police officers ran to the girl and put his fingers on her neck. He shook his head. The policemen handcuffed Ray and began to read him his rights.

  “Wait, man, you got this all wrong—”

  “Yeah, yeah.” The cop led Ray to this police car.

  Ray began to pull away from him. “Listen, I was helping her. I didn’t—”

  Another cop hit Ray over the head with a billyclub. “You got caught red-handed robbing this young lady. People like you make me sick.”

  Ray was too dazed to say anything as the cops put him in the back of the police car. He knew it looked bad for him. He dropped his head and began to pray.

  The prosecutor stood up to give his closing argument. He wiped his forehead with a handkerchief, then slowly approached the jury. “The man sitting in that defendant’s chair is a man of no remorse. He killed a seventeen-year-old girl in cold blood. Imagine if that girl was your daughter, your sister, or a beloved neighborhood child.” He paused for effect. He wanted to give the jury time to process what he’d just said. He pointed his finger at Ray. “This man is a menace to society, and deserves to be punished to the fullest extent of the law. All of the evidence points toward one man. And that man is sitting before us today. That man is Raymond Parks. Nothing can keep our communities safe from this tyrant, except a life sentence. The only people who can make that happen are you, the people of the jury. Don’t put another young girl in danger. Put him away for the rest of his life. He was caught over his victim’s dead body, rummaging through her purse looking for money. He drove this woman’s skull against a brick wall so hard and so violently, her brain hemorrhaged, which ultimately led to her death. How cold-blooded is that? So the prosecution asks of you—no, we beg of you, the jury, to sentence this man to a lifetime in prison. Render a guilty verdict and bring justice back to the community. I rest my case.” The prosecuting attorney turned and walked back to his seat, a smug grin on his face. He knew he’d just delivered a closing argument that would cripple the defense and win the trial.