by Paige Green
“Get that shit out of my face! Are you crazy?”
Twisting up her nose as she stared at Derrick through her scornful eyes and shaking her head in disbelief. she finally took heed to how the love of her life had drastically changed for the worst. Derrick’s masculine features, soft, creamy brown skin, and long dreadlocks were long gone. Now, he was a shell of his old image, nearly a hundred pounds with matted dreads and an empty look in his eyes.
Cocking the gun as she placed her hand on the trigger, she said, “I will no longer be your punching bag, Derrick. Goodbye, my love.” She squeezed the trigger three times and watched as all three bullets pierced his chest, instantly killing him.
Jadedly making her way out of the kitchen, she stared at his lifeless body one last time before making her way toward her bedroom. Walking into it and reaching into her closet, she pulled out all of her clothes and the rest of her belongings before she packed them up and left their apartment for good.
A couple of months after Relisha killed Derrick, she became homeless. She went from living on the streets and eating out of garbage cans to living in homeless shelters. After losing a large amount of weight from lack of eating daily, Relisha lost her job at Club 412 and just when she thought that things couldn’t get any worse, she found out she was pregnant with twins. Completely broken and having nowhere to turn, she finally made it back to the neighborhood where she was born and raised, Northview Heights.
Even though Northview Heights was a high-crime neighborhood, it was still home for her. When she arrived back, five months’ pregnant with twin boys, and appearing shattered, she stopped at her old neighbor, Melissa Johnson’s, house and knocked on the door.
When Melissa answered the door and noticed Relisha, she welcomed her in with warming arms. Melissa, who was in her mid-thirties, was a kindhearted woman who went out of her way to help and provide for a pregnant Relisha. She showered her with motherly love, gave her food, clothes, and a place to rest her head. But after Relisha gave birth to her twin sons, naming them Deion and Day’onne, she started to take advantage of Melissa. She would stay out late hours of the night while Melissa stayed up in the house taking care of the twins. At first, Melissa didn’t speak too much on it, reasoning she was acting out on all of the things that she’d been through. But when the twins turned one and Relisha failed to show up on their birthday, she’d had enough.
“Hey, girl!” Relisha said as she staggered into Melissa’s apartment.
It was one in the morning and as Melissa sat there in the living room, with her legs and hands crossed, she shook her head in pity as the strong smell of marijuana and alcohol assaulted her nose.
“Look, baby girl, you have to go. Not now, but right now,” Melissa said as she stood up.
“What the hell you mean I got to go? This is my house, too!” Relisha yelled, her words slurring.
“I’m sorry, but last time I checked, I pay the bills in here while you rip and run the streets. You have two boys to take care of but you’d rather party and stay out? I’ve had enough of it! Your clothes are already packed at the door.”
“Yeah, whatever! You can keep those bastard kids here! I couldn’t care less about all of you!” she yelled as she stormed toward the door, grabbed her clothes, and wobbled out of the front door.
An hour later, Relisha showed up at Club 412 in a baggy sweat suit that hung off of her rail-thin frame. Judging by her sunken eyes, thin hair, and rail-thin frame, most of the people she bypassed had mistaken her as a drug addict. Her once flawless physique and erotic features had vanished long ago. That day was the first time she’d been at the club in months. As she started to make her way toward the dressing room, almost everyone she passed dropped their mouths in shock.
“What the hell happened to you?” Delicious chuckled, folding her arms under her breasts as Relisha walked into the dressing room.
Relisha rolled her eyes to the back of her head as she began to strip out of the sweat suit and changed into a baby blue bikini that hung off of her body.
“I know you aren’t going out there like that?” another stripper asked with a frown.
Relisha continued to ignore them as she strutted out the dressing room and walked onto the stage.
The disc jockey hesitated to play the music at first, but after noticing the murderous glare on her face, he gave in. When Plies’ song “Plenty Money” roared throughout the club, Relisha bit down on her lip as she arched her small back and gripped the pole. The crowd erupted into loud, thunderous laughter as they watch her try too hard to make her small booty meat shake. Relisha tried her best to ignore the laughter, but after she didn’t notice not one dollar thrown on the stage, she instantly knew she was making a fool of herself.
Gripped with embarrassment, Relisha ran off the stage with tears blurring her vision. After arriving back into the dressing room, she collapsed on the chair and cried her heart out.
“Damn, girl, you look bad,” Delicious said, taking a blunt out of her bra before taking a long pull at it.
Relisha looked at her nemesis, teary-eyed and full of sorrow. She knew she had made a complete fool out of herself and it was tearing her up inside as she noticed the sly smile on Delicious’ face.
“Let me hit that blunt!” Relisha said, ignoring her smart remark.
“You sure? It’s . . .”
“It’s what? Pass the blunt,” she yelled before snatching the blunt out of Delicious’ hand and taking a long pull.
Delicious smiled mischievously as she watched Relisha take a few puffs from the blunt before she awkwardly looked at it. “It’s laced, you dumb bitch!” Delicious laughed.
CHAPTER TWO
As time progressed and months turned into years, Relisha transformed into a full-blown drug addict. Since the day that she had smoked her nemesis’ laced marijuana, she went from smoking them three times a week to sniffing pure cocaine daily. She watched as her body went from petite to emaciate in a matter of months after she’d gotten addicted to the drug. Relisha was on a path of destruction and with her twin sons seldom on her mind, another challenging situation seemed to draw her thoughts on her boys back.
One day, Relisha walked through the cold streets of Northview with a vial of cocaine in her hand. Wearing disheveled clothing, she stared around the dull neighborhood through her bloodshot eyes, searching for a place to take her drugs. When she finally found a place in a dark alley, she threw herself against a dirty wall and slowly slid down it. Reaching into her pocket and pulling out a small mirror and a rolled-up dollar bill, she took the vial of cocaine, poured it on the mirror and proceeded to divide it into three lines until she felt a sharp pain shoot through her stomach, causing her to drop the mirror and double over.
“Ugh!” she screamed as she felt an extreme amount of pressure coming from her lower abdomen.
With her chest heaving, she spread her legs and arched her back when her uterus contracted and she felt something ripping through her vaginal canal.
Shifting her body from off of the wall, she then placed her elbows on the ground as she lay on her back and took slow, deep breaths. Closing her eyes tightly, she released a loud scream as her body started to shake uncontrollably and she then felt a strong urge to push.
Sitting up, she kicked her sweat pants off as she continued to push and scream. Reaching in between her legs, and touching her vagina, her heart almost leapt out of her throat when she felt the head of her unborn child crowning. She clenched her teeth and tossed her head back as she continued to push. Five minutes later, she reached back down, grabbed the baby by its shoulders, and pulled the rest of its body out of her before she cradled it in her arms.
The baby lay almost motionless in her arms as Relisha then took her small mirror, smacked it against the ground, took a broken piece, and cut the umbilical cord. Picking up her sweat pants, she wrapped them around the baby before mustering up what strength she had within, and rose to her feet. Panicking, she ran out of the alleyway with the baby in her arms and
aimlessly walked through Northview. When she saw a garbage can in the distance, she started to walk toward it until she thought about her twins. She turned and walked in the opposite direction. When she made it to Melissa’s porch, she placed the baby on the ground, banged on the door, and then ran off the porch, disappearing into the dark night.
Melissa sat at her kitchen table, tears seeping from her eyes. With her hair pulled back in a tight bun and dressed in a knee-length skirt with a white shirt, she turned her face away from eight-year-old Deion, who ran around the kitchen with his toy truck in his hand.
Peering at the stack of bills on her table, she dropped her head into her hands as Deion walked up to her and asked, “Are you okay, Mom?”
Melissa looked at Deion, trying her best to mask her pain as she flashed a fake smile and nodded her head. “Yes, baby, I’m okay . . .why do you ask?”
“I thought you were crying.”
“I’m fine, baby. Go ahead and play with . . .”
A loud knocking coming from her front door interrupted her. She hopped out of her chair and walked toward it. Looking out the peephole, she didn’t see anyone there, and she shook her head and opened the door. “I’m so tired of these kids playing on my darn door!”
When she gazed around outside and still didn’t see anyone, she started to close the door until she caught a glimpse of what lay on her threshold. Bending down as tears formed into her eyes, the sight of a thin, pale baby wrapped in wet rags burned a hole through her heart. She lifted it into her arms and stepped back inside before she closed the door behind her.
The infant’s skin was cold and pasty as Melissa unwrapped the dirty sweat pants from its body.
“Whose baby is that?” Day’onne asked, hopping off the floral sofa.
“I don’t know, Day’onne. Deion, please go get my purse and keys from off my bed. Hurry up!” she yelled.
Judging by the umbilical cord that still hung from the infant’s body, she knew it was birthed into this world not too long ago.
“Here you go, Mom!” Deion yelled as he handed Melissa her purse and keys.
“C’mon, y’all, put your shoes and coats on!”
The twins nodded their heads as they ran to the living room closet and stepped into their shoes and coats. When they were ready, they ran out of the front door with Melissa, who was still holding the motionless baby, following right after them. She strapped the twins in her car before handing the baby to Deion. “Be careful, baby. Hold it until we get to the hospital.”
Nodding his head, Deion stared at Day’onne, who was frowning at the baby, before he asked, “Do you think it’s dead?”
“I don’t know, and I damn sure don’t care,” Day’onne replied before he turned toward the window and stared out it.
“Don’t worry, baby, we’ll save you,” Deion whispered to the infant as Melissa placed her key in the ignition before driving off.
When they finally arrived at Allegheny General Hospital, Melissa quickly hopped out the driver’s seat before running to the backseat, opening the door, and gently taking the baby out of Deion’s arms. With the twins following behind her, she ran to the emergency department, and yelled, “Help me, please!”
A handful of doctors ran to her, noticing the pale, almost lifeless infant dangling in her arms. One of the doctors gently took the newborn and placed it on a gurney.
“What happened here, ma’am?” one of the doctors asked as they rushed the baby toward the NICU department.
“I don’t know; I found her in front of my house. Someone placed her there,” Melissa replied as she ran with the doctors, refusing to leave the baby’s side.
“We’re going to need you to stay out here while we do our jobs,” another doctor said when they finally reached NICU.
Nodding her head, she stopped in her tracks as she watched the doctors disappear into the distance.
For the next three days, Melissa had been at the hospital consistently to answer questions from the police, who were trying to find the mother and to get an update on the infant who had stolen her heart. The doctors hadn’t been any help, only alerting Melissa that the baby was doing much better than before. But on the fourth day, Melissa and the twins walked into the waiting room and she started to demand more details.
A doctor walked right up to her. “Are you Melissa Johnson?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Okay, my name is Dr. Harrison and I’m sorry we haven’t given you a lot of details on the baby. We aren’t used to someone dropping off a baby they found and then sticking around.”
“It’s fine. Please tell me what’s going on with the baby?”
She watched nervously as Dr. Harrison removed his bifocal glasses from his face and placed them into his lab coat. Taking a deep breath, he stared into Melissa’s eyes. “It’s a girl. This child has been born addicted to crack cocaine, Ms. Johnson. Her health was steadily decreasing and she had a low birth weight. We ran tests to make sure she wasn’t born with any mental problems, too.”
“Was she?”
“No, she wasn’t born with any mental problems. That child is a fighter, Ms. Johnson. Her health is increasing and she’s doing much better.”
“Can we see her, Mom?” Deion intervened with a bright smile on his face.
Gazing at the doctor with pleading eyes, Melissa smiled when Dr. Harrison smiled back at Deion and nodded his head. He started to lead them toward the NICU until Melissa noticed Day’onne still standing in the waiting room.
“Are you coming, son?” she asked as she walked back toward him.
“No, I’m not going. I don’t want to see that baby,” he replied with knitted eyebrows and a twisted mouth.
“Why not, baby?”
“I’m just tired, Mom. I’ll wait for y’all in here,” he lied as he took a seat.
Eyeing him one last time, she nodded her head before she turned around and walked quickly, catching up with Deion and Dr. Harrison.
Once they reached the unit where the baby was located, Dr. Harrison opened the door to a small room and led them inside. “You two have five minutes.”
They nodded their heads when they watched him walk out of the room. Walking up to the baby’s incubator, Melissa and Deion smiled as they peered down at her.
“Wow, she’s beautiful, Mommy.”
“Yes she is, son. She’s almost the same color as you were when you were first born.”
The baby’s skin color was now a light brown, no longer pale. She had jet-black, wavy hair and a pin-straight nose.
When the baby opened her eyes, Melissa couldn’t help but think of how familiar her light, slanted eyes look. Gasping, realization hit her and everything started to make sense. The baby being born addicted to cocaine, and her light eyes led to one conclusion. She glanced at Deion’s slanted eyes before she stared into the baby’s eyes.
“What’s wrong, Mom?”
“Deion, baby. This is your sister.”
“How? You didn’t have her?” he asked confusedly.
“No, baby. Remember your other mommy I told you and Day’onne about?” Eyeing the floor as he nodded his head. “That’s her daughter, baby. Y’all have a sister!”
For the next couple of months, Melissa busied herself with work, looking after the twins, and making daily visits to the hospital.
Over time, the drug-addicted infant’s health drastically improved, and one day when Melissa came to the hospital for her regular daily visit, she found a surprise.
“Hello, Ms. Johnson, My name is Diane Puchiarelli, and I’m from Child Protective Services.”
“Hey, Ms. Puchiarelli, how may I help you?” Melissa asked skeptically, shaking the woman’s hand.
“I’ve been assigned to this case. The infant in question was born addicted to crack cocaine and abandoned. I’ve been told that you’ve been a consistent visitor?”
“Yes, but what are you getting at, Ms. Puchiarelli?” she asked.
“Well, I have been informed that this child�
�s health is improving and she’s healthy enough to be discharged. They’re ready for her to be released and since we don’t know who her biological parents are, it’s my job to get her into a foster home or assign her a legal guardian, immediately.”
“Okay, is that where I come in?”
Ms. Puchiarelli shook her head as she folded her arms under her breasts. “I’m not certain. I did a brief background check on you and discovered you live in the high-crime area, Northview Heights. This child has already been through a lot, and it’s my job to make sure she’s properly taken care of and in a safe environment.”
“Are you saying because I live there, it isn’t safe for her?”
“Yes, but—”
“Excuse me, but for your information, I took in two twin boys over seven years ago whose mother, like that child in there, abandoned them. Because I live in Northview doesn’t mean she’d be in danger. There’s danger everywhere in this city, not to mention this world! That child in that nursery waiting to be released is mine!”
Ms. Puchiarelli nodded her head as she remained silent for a moment, trying to choose her words more carefully before she spoke. Having dealt with numerous cases where children were placed with money-hungry, careless guardians who only wanted them for the paychecks the government provided for them, she could tell Melissa was different.
“I can see that you care for this child. Perhaps I should reconsider my position. I don’t want her to go through any more than she’s already been through.”
“I can understand that, but I’d never hurt her. Why do you think I pop my head up here every day? Just like you, I want the best for her, too,” Melissa assured her.
Ms. Puchiarelli smiled. “I know that now. Give me some time and I’ll have the paperwork ready. You’re on your way to becoming her legal guardian.”
For the next couple of days, Melissa took her time signing papers. On the day the baby was scheduled to be released, she arrived at the hospital with a huge smile on her face and carrying a new outfit she’d bought for the little girl to wear home.
