God's Broken Lil' Baby. E. Jay Ford
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out earlier than her birthday because she was back in the hospital. She told me to be cool, and I only listened to her because over the past month, she had been up walking around, hosting a fish fry, and acting as if nothing was wrong. I thought she was getting her strength back. I thought the meds were working. It was 2:00 a.m. Favorite auntie was sad, and I knew it was bad. When I heard the words, it still didn’t register. I got off the phone and just sat there. I cried for hours.
The day of the funeral was the worst. All I wanted was for this not to be real. I wanted my mommy back. I wasn’t ready for her to be dead. I didn’t have enough time. She was only sixty-two years old. I had plans. She was supposed to live with me the winter months. I was going to buy her a bike and a metal detector for her walks on the beach. She loved finding stuff. It wasn’t time. Days leading up to the funeral, the phone calls from people had become damn near unbearable. At one point, my cousins had given my number to this female I had gotten into it with on a cruise with them a year before this. I wanted to fight that bitch so bad on that cruise and even more when she text me on my phone and still until this very day I and still want to punch that bitch. I guess she figured because my mom died all would be forgiven. They must have been outside their minds. I wanted to destroy something anyway, so that text message sent me over the edge. I was so pissed I wanted to jump through the phone. It was a day before I was traveling from Orlando to Indianapolis for this bullshit, and I was praying she was brave enough to show up. I was going to beat her ass on sight! My last interaction with her, she talked big shit because my leg was broke and couldn’t do anything. I was ready for her this time. She didn’t show.
The funeral was only about a couple of hours, but it felt like an eternity. All the hugs and kisses weren’t enough to cover up the pain. It did nothing. The comforting words were not comfort. Nothing helped me, and all I wanted to day to do was be over as quickly as it possibly could. It took me forever to get in there to actually see my mommy. I was actually dragged in there by my brother and sister. I couldn’t breathe. Favorite Aunt had to get me out of there. I wanted to die. It was way more than I expected to be. Again, my life was bullshit.
In the end, it turned out to be an amazing home-going celebration. My pastor preached, and boy did he preach. It was powerful and uplifting and the best part of the whole ordeal. I didn’t feel any better, but it got me through the funeral. The repast was amazing. It was so much fun and a celebration that was truly worthy of my mother’s character. I didn’t think about why we were there as much because of the people and the food. The laughs were nonstop and much needed. I knew the distraction would end. I knew once all the festivities ended, I would have to think about her. I wasn’t ready.
Mommy was life. There was a time when I couldn’t stand her ass because of how I grew up, but I learned about a lot of truths I couldn’t see as a child and I understood her. My love for her as an adult is one that words can’t even express. I miss her every single day. I miss her so bad it hurts. Never again will I take advantage of the love I have for the people in my life. Her death taught me that.
Chapter 17
17 Suicide
I Am
My true talent I cannot see
because I am
capable of almost anything.
I accomplish something.
My insides ring
because I am
strong, intelligent, self-reliant.
If I learn it, I will apply it
because I am
the woman I have always wanted to be.
My achievements, big and small, make me so proud of me
because I am,
because I am,
because I am.
I tried to kill myself today. No, really, I tried to commit suicide. I attended East St. Louis Senior High School, and this place is hell. I hate this fucking place. I don’t fit nowhere in this hellhole. The students here made me sick, and they tortured the shit out of me because I don’t have what they have. Our lights were off again, and my mommy had been missing for about two days. Don’t worry, she’s on another smoke binge. She gets a hold of that crack, and there’s no telling when she’ll get back. The gas was off too, and it’s December, so it’s cold as fuck. There’s no fucking food in this house. She sold the damn food stamps again. I hate my fucking life. I don’t even know why God got me here. If I’m not a mistake, I don’t know what the fuck this is. They say God doesn’t make any mistakes, but I don’t know Him that well, so I don’t trust it. I don’t have a soul in this world that I can talk to about this shit. I tried talking to the guidance counselor once. A day or two after I talked to her, I came into the office to give her an update and heard that bitch gossiping about me and my situation with the other bitches in the office over coffee. They were “heeing” and “hawing” and “girl, no” and “that po chile” and a bunch of other bullshit. I was so fucking mad, I just left out. That shit was embarrassing. Never again will I try that shit.
This particular day pretty much sent me over the edge. I went to school today as I always do. They can take a lot of shit from me, but they can’t take my knowledge, and I sure as fuck am not going to hand it over to them. I was one of the smartest motha fuckas in that building, so I kept going. It’s too cold in the house to take a shower. The gas was cut off again, so I stink. On top of no water on this funky ass body, laundry had not been done in about two months. I found the least funky clothes I could find. There was a washer and dryer in the house, but there was a flood in the basement, so it hadn’t worked in years. There was also a fire so a lot of shit in the house that still smelled like smoke. I still go to school. Fuck them, stuck-up, siddity ass kids. I wish I had stayed that strong all my life. I didn’t. Those bitches broke me down. I have never cried so hard in all my life.
We had to do skits this day in advanced English class. I hate that fat white ass teacher bitch too. She always had an attitude and looked angry all the damn time. We had to read a novel, and then she grouped us together to do skits based on the novel. I actually had a boyfriend at the time. He was a mega nerd that hung around a bunch of other mega nerds. They remind you of a broke down version of The Big Bang Theory. He ended up being my husband. That’s another story. Anyway, the first three groups had to do their skits today. They were actually really funny. They read Hamlet and did an In Living Color skit about it. I was enjoying class today. I thought the day was going to be a great day, but then the second group got up to do theirs. That’s when it happened. The day I will never forget began.
Four of our classmates got up in front of the class and mocked my boyfriend, his best friend, his girlfriend, and me. When the girl that was pretending to be me walked into the class, she made herself look as triflin’ as she could possibly look. She had her hair all over her head, clothes mismatched and stained, and walked like her ass stank. I sat in the back of class and damn near died as they announced who they were pretending to be. I had to fight back those tears so hard my chest felt like it was going to explode. As I listened to the class laugh, I couldn’t hear a word that was being said. The feelings I was experiencing blocked all words from my ears. What made these assholes think that this was okay? The teacher didn’t even stop the shit. She didn’t even try to save me. She watched these kids torment me using her fucking assignments in front of everybody in the fucking class, and she said nothing. What made this shit of the utmost ridiculousness was this bitch that played me asked me if I was okay at the end of class. Bitch! What do you think? If you have to ask, you already know you just did some evil shit.
They say imitation is the highest form of flattery. Like hell it is. Humiliation is a norm for me. I go to school with a bunch of pretenders who feel better by making others feel worse. This day was the day that was too much. When I got home, no one was there. I’m sure my mommy was somewhere high as fuck. Sissy wasn’t home from Lincoln. We were both in high school, but after going to Hughes-Quinn Junior High School together, I decided I wanted to go to a different high school. She was probably out hanging with her friends in the Gompers. Little Brother was more than likely at Aldi’s