Family Over Everything

by Paige Green

  I know the feeling, she thought, standing to her feet.

  “Okay, we called your foster care mother, Rachael, and she’ll be here to pick you two up any minute now.”

  “You told Rachael on us?” Mercedes asked, shifting in her chair.

  Noticing the fear in her eyes, Officer Williams sat back down and took her by the hand.

  “Yes, we had to, sweetie. Why were y’all out there stealing food when she provides it at the foster home?”

  Snatching her hand away from her, tears streamed down Mercedes’ cheeks as fear gripped her.

  “We don’t have anything to eat up there! She treats us like shit! She’s going to—”

  “Would you shut the fuck up, Mercedes?” Corrine yelled, interrupting her. “You know you’re not supposed to say shit to no one. It’s not like this bitch cares, anyway. She’s like the rest of them!”

  Looking at Corrine through distressed eyes, Mercedes nodded in agreement, wiped her tears, and inhaled.

  “Your mouth is filthy, Ms. Corrine. How do you know if I would care or not? You don’t know me, like I don’t know you. Baby girl, I’m only here to help,” she assured Corrine.

  Before Corrine had a chance to reply, she locked eyes with her foster mother.

  Rachael, a white woman dressed in a black blouse and a black knee-length skirt, flashed a fake smile as she walked up to Officer Williams, extending a pale hand.

  “Hello, are you the guardian of these two girls?” Officer Williams asked, standing to her feet and shaking Rachael’s hand.

  “Yes, I am. I’m very sorry for the inconvenience these two have caused; they never seem to stay out of trouble,” Rachel said, trying her best to sound professional. “I try my best to raise and do the best I can for these girls, but it’s practically useless.”

  Corrine and Mercedes sucked their teeth as they watched the fake act Rachael performed.

  “It’s fine, but I’m wondering why they’re out here stealing, anyway? They wouldn’t be doing it if they didn’t have a reason to,” Officer Williams said, raising her eyebrows in suspicion.

  “There’s no reason for them to be foolish.” She paused to see if the officer was buying it. “Now, I’d like to be on my way. C’mon, girls,” Rachael said in a dismissing tone.

  Corrine and Mercedes watched as Rachael walked out of the police station and followed after her. Officer Williams, who felt as if there was more to the story, quickly took out her business card with her email and personal cell phone number and gently grabbed Mercedes by the wrist.

  “Please, if you need any help, don’t hesitate to call me,” she said, placing the card into her hand.

  Mercedes nodded, placed the card into their duffle bag and walked out of the station.

  “Didn’t I fucking tell y’all stupid hoes not to get caught?” Rachael yelled at the top of her lungs.

  Corrine and Mercedes sat in the corner of the bedroom they shared, their legs wobbling and lips quivering. Rachel, who had fire blazing in her eyes, ignored their cries as she marched out of their room. Walking toward the kitchen, she kicked a pile of trash out of her way. The foul stench of spoiled food assaulted her nose as she walked into the kitchen and removed the scorching hot water that she had started boiling earlier from the stove.

  “Mom, I’m hungry!” Rachael’s biological daughter, Tessa, cried as she clutched her stomach.

  “I don’t give a fuck! Blame your sisters for getting caught stealing the fucking food!” she spat harshly as she walked back into the room.

  “Run, Corrine!” Mercedes yelled as Rachael walked toward them with the boiling water.

  Corrine tried to run past Rachael, but before she had a chance to move her feet, their foster mother threw the water at both of them. Wailing out blood-curdling screams, Corrine and Mercedes collapsed to the ground, wrapping their arms around their now burned flesh. Rachael quickly picked up a belt that had a heavy buckle from off the floor, and started to beat both girls without mercy, causing them to scream louder.

  Mercedes tried screaming again, but all that came out was a loud screech.

  “Please stop!” she begged, starting to lose consciousness.

  Corrine, who was now silent, remained curled up into a ball, numb to the pain. She closed her eyes, imagining she was somewhere else other than the hell-hole she was in.

  “Now, I want you black nigger bitches to stay in here and think about what you did. If you come out this room, that’s y’all asses!” Rachael warned before slamming the door behind her.

  Mercedes winced in pain as she grabbed the bottom of her jail-like mattress bed and pulled herself onto it. Her flesh felt raw and sore with every move she made.

  Tears of sorrow tumbled down Corrine’s eyes as she rocked herself back and forth. Her long hair was wild and tangled on the top of her head, and her brown, mocha skin was almost beet red. No stranger to the great pain she was enduring, she mustered up the little strength she had left in her fifteen-year-old body and pulled herself through the piles of food, trash, and dead rodents that lay on her bedroom floor.

  Lying next to Mercedes in the bed they were forced to share, she wrapped her arms around her best friend and laid her head on her chest, weeping.

  “We got to get out of here, Mercedes. I can’t take this anymore,” she cried, choking over her words.

  “I know, Corrine. I know.”

  Mercedes Owens was born and raised in many different areas of the city. Her mother, Theresa Harper, who died while giving birth to Mercedes, planned to give her daughter the life and childhood she never had. Theresa worked as a math teacher at one of the Pittsburgh public schools. She was no stranger to growing up and not having anything she could call her own. Raised by an alcoholic mother, she’d had to learn the hard way of how to make it through life. She fought hard for everything she owned and she tried her best in focusing on her own life goals. Growing up not knowing her father, she always yearned to feel that love by the other gender.

  So when she met Darnell Owens, she quickly fell head over heels for him.

  Darnell was a certified womanizer in Pittsburgh. A lot of women fell in love with his charming personality, piercing hazel eyes, light skin, and masculine features. He dipped not only into females’ panties, but their pockets, also.

  Theresa, who was twenty-five when she met Darnell, met him while she was leaving work one day. She had endured a long day at work and all she wanted to do was go home and get some rest. She walked out of the middle school, her bronze, flawless skin glistening in the sunlight. Her hair was pinned up in a pile of curls, emphasizing her exotic cheekbones and almond-shaped eyes. She was dressed in a royal-blue skirt suit, semi-revealing her curvaceous legs. By the powerful strut of her walk, the perfect curl of her lips, and the way she held her head in confidence as she walked, Darnell was enticed by her.

  “Yo, ma! What’s up?” he yelled, running across the street.

  Turning around to face him, Theresa tried her best to mask her disappointment as she saw the ignorant man before her.

  “Well, is that a kind of way to approach a woman? I’m a lady, talk to me like a man is supposed to talk to a woman,” she said, folding her arms across her chest.

  Taken aback by her response, Darnell knew he’d underestimated the beautiful woman before him. He was so used to scandalous, ghetto females that he didn’t recognize a real woman when he saw one.

  “I apologize. But my name is Darnell, and yours?”

  “Theresa. Theresa Harper; it was nice to meet you,” she said, turning and walking toward her car.

  “Wait, wait, Theresa! I was wondering if I could take you out sometime, you know? Have a good time together,” he said, licking his lips seductively.

  Looking into his deep, hazel eyes, Theresa almost melted. He was hard to resist.

  It’s been four years since I’ve been with a man, she thought. He’s not the best, but he sure is a start.

  “Okay, that’ll be fine; call me later.” She wrote down
her number and passed it to him.

  A couple of days later, after Darnell finally decided to call her, he took her to a fancy restaurant downtown. Overwhelmed with emotion and a little tipsy off the alcohol, Theresa knew she had to have him that night.

  That night, he seduced her, taking her body places it had never been before. That night, not only had she caught feelings for him, she had also conceived.

  NINE MONTHS LATER . . .

  “C’mon, Darnell! My water broke! Can you meet me at this hospital, please?” Theresa cried into the cell phone as she took short, deep breaths.

  Darnell, who was at yet another female’s house, sighed. He couldn’t care less about Theresa having his child; he already had over six kids.

  “Look, I told you I’m busy and I can’t make it. Give my daughter a kiss for me. I’ll talk to you later,” he said, ending the call.

  She tossed her cell phone at the hospital wall in complete frustration.

  “Okay, Ms. Harper, I need you to calm down and take a deep breath. Your child is on her way now and your blood pressure is very high; that’s very dangerous,” the doctor warned her.

  Theresa’s chest heaved in and out and tears blinded her sight. As she lay there, preparing to birth her first child into the world by herself, she regretted even meeting Darnell. She despised him for leaving her at the hospital like that. Six hours and twenty minutes later, she gave birth to a healthy baby girl, naming her Mercedes Owens.

  Even though she had mixed emotions about Darnell, she still decided to give her daughter his last name. Theresa only had one chance to look at her daughter’s beautiful hazel eyes that she inherited from her father before she had a massive heart attack, dying holding her child.

  As Mercedes got older, she was moved from foster home to foster home, not being able to call any place a real home. Throughout her short sixteen years on earth, she’d been abused mentally, physically, and emotionally. She’d learned a long time ago how cold and callous this world was. Growing up, she never trusted any of the males or females that she had to call her brothers and sisters in the numerous foster homes she traveled through. After a while, she plastered it in her mind that the foster homes she moved through were only temporary. But after being placed to live with an angry, abusive white woman, Rachael Moye, Mercedes found it hard to believe that she’d ever leave that hell-hole. Rachael lived in one of the projects on Brighton Ridge and was considered a hustler, adopting random children and using the paychecks she earned from them to get high.

  When Corrine Johnson, who was nine at the time, was sent to live with Rachael, Mercedes was instantly drawn to the young girl. The couple of months there, Mercedes, who was a year older than Corrine, kept Corrine close to her at all times and made sure that Rachael never laid a finger on her. But after a while, Rachael started to abuse both girls without mercy, beating them with anything she could lay her hands on.

  “Mercedes?” Corrine cried one night as she stared at the dark walls.

  It was her first week living there and one of the worst weeks of her life. That night, high off drugs and with her adrenaline rushing, Rachael had beaten them for almost an hour straight for no given reason.

  “Yes, Corrine?” Mercedes asked, her voice trembling.

  “Do you ever think about your real family and how your life would’ve been if you were with them?”

  “Yes, I do. I think about it all the time. But I never knew my mother or father. What about you? Did you know your family?”

  Taking a deep breath, Corrine nodded. “Yes, my momma died when I was seven. I had two older brothers that are identical twins, too.”

  Mercedes turned to face her. “Well, at least you knew your family. What was it like having a real family?”

  “Well, one brother raped me for about two years, and my favorite brother, Deion, he was so nice and he did anything for me. I miss him so much,” Corrine cried.

  Placing her hand to her chest, Mercedes replied, “I didn’t know you were raped. I’m sorry to hear that, sister.”

  “It’s fine. Only you and Deion know.” Corrine shrugged. “And Mercedes?”

  “Yes, Corrine?”

  “Will you always be my friend and never leave my side?”

  Lifting her head up, Mercedes grabbed Corrine’s hand. “Yes, I’ll always be here for you, Corrine. What made you ask that?”

  “Because I’m tired of people walking in and out of my life. I’m tired, Mercedes,” Corrine continued to cry.

  “Well, you don’t have to worry about that anymore, Corrine. Best friends until the end.”

  “You promise?”

  “I promise.”

  “Mercedes? Corrine? Are y’all okay?” fourteen-year-old Tessa asked, peeking into their bedroom.

  Corrine and Mercedes, who were still in great pain from the brutal beating Rachael had laid on them earlier, groaned in pain as they both turned to face her. Both girls’ flesh was still beet red and stiff from the boiling hot water Rachael had thrown at them. Tessa walked into the room with a loaf of bread and a jug of water in her hands. Kneeling, she opened the bread and took two pieces out and turned toward Mercedes. Opening her mouth, she took a piece of the bread, popped it into her mouth, and watched as Mercedes forced herself to chew it. Turning to Corrine, she repeated the same steps and helped them drink out of the jug of water.

  When she knew both girls were satisfied, she left the room.

  For the next couple of days, Rachael had left Corrine and Mercedes to rot in misery in their tiny, dirty bedroom. The room was filthy. Dead rodents, mouse droppings, and old trash were scattered around. At night, lying on the dirty jail-like bed that was very small and thin, the girls had to deal with the chirping sounds of rats eating at the garbage that was on the floor.

  “Are you okay, Mercedes?” Corrine asked in a low, weak voice.

  It was three in the afternoon and both girls were curled in a fetal position, gripped with fatigue and hunger. It had been two days since they’d had anything to eat and if they didn’t eat quickly, they’d die from starvation. Wincing in pain, Mercedes nodded and bravely stood up. A wave of pain washed over her and her knees buckled as she fell. Corrine struggled to her feet and helped her back up, both their faces masks of pain. Taking small steps, they went to the door, opened it cautiously, and peeked out, remembering Rachael’s warning.

  They had taken heed to Rachael’s warning and were too weak to endure another beating.

  When they noticed the small hallway was clear, both girls walked as fast as they could into the kitchen. Mercedes opened the refrigerator, not too disappointed at what she saw. There were a couple of flies circling around a half-empty pot of ravioli and a jug of water.

  Taking the ravioli out of the refrigerator and placing it onto a plate, she popped it into the microwave.

  “Here, eat this,” she said, after removing the plate and passing it to Corrine.

  “How about we both eat it?” Corrine asked, picking two forks from off the floor and passing one to Mercedes.

  In a matter of seconds, they demolished the ravioli. Looking at the empty plate, their stomachs turned.

  “I can’t take this shit anymore,” Corrine cried, clutching her stomach and falling to the floor.

  “Well, we have to deal with it, Corrine. Where else will we go?” Mercedes asked, taking a seat next to her.

  “I don’t know,” Corrine said.

  Wrapping her arms around her best friend’s shoulders, Mercedes managed to flash a fake smile. “We’ll find a way, Corrine. Trust me, we’ll find a way.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  PRESENT DAY . . .

  When Deion arrived home from his book signing that night, he couldn’t help but think about the conversation he had with Day’onne. His thoughts ran a mile a minute as he walked into his condominium, located on the Southside of Pittsburgh.

  “You okay, baby?” Yoka, asked, rubbing his masculine chest.

  “Yeah, I’m cool.”

  Yoka notice
d how quiet Deion had been on his way back home. “You look stressed. Can I help take that tension away?” she asked, smiling seductively.

  They were seated on his La-Z-Boy chair in his living room. Even though he really didn’t want any company at that moment, he could use the stress reliever.

  “Give it a shot, baby,” he said, flashing a fake smile.

  Yoka, who had radiant dark skin, rocked a short haircut, and had a strong resemblance of Naomi Campbell, continued to smile as she slid in between his legs. Unzipping his slacks and pulling them down, she licked her lips as she held his thick penis in her hands.

  Teasing the head with the tip of her tongue, she moaned and went to work. Deion closed his eyes and threw his head back as he grabbed the back of her head and moaned. Yoka took a deep breath as she slid his penis deeper and deeper into her mouth until the head was nearly down her throat.

  “Alright, alright, come here,” he said, standing to his feet.

  He reached into his pants pocket, pulling out a Magnum condom and placing it on himself. Lifting Yoka against the wall and wrapping her legs around his waist, he slowly entered her, teasing her opening with the tip of his penis.

  She tossed her head back in ecstasy when he was fully inside of her. He held her tight, stroking deeply.

  “Harder, harder!” she moaned, biting her lip.

  He held her closer, pounded her harder, causing her to have multiple orgasms.

  Fifteen minutes later, Deion ejaculated into the condom and collapsed to the floor, holding Yoka in his arms.

  “Hey, Ms. Younger,” Deion said as he walked into Ms. Younger’s small duplex.

  “Hey, baby, what are you doing here so early?” Ms. Younger asked, glancing at her watch, noting it was only ten in the morning.

  “I had a lot on my mind and I needed someone to talk to,” he said, taking a seat on her couch.

  Ms. Younger, who was still dressed in her nightwear, took her robe off of the couch and put it on. Taking a seat next to her adopted son, she looked at him, seeing the stress in face.