It’s almost 7:30 and I’ve been working my *** off for this meal. Everyone better like it, because I really didn’t have to do it. I could’ve skipped out and said I forgot. Trust me, I’ve done it before.
But I don’t see how they won’t like what I cooked: chicken curry, roti, chow mein, rice and peas, and plantain. Of course, my mom helped cook it, but I was the mastermind behind this feast. Yes, thugs can cook too.
“Mmmm, this is good!” mom says. Everyone at the table agrees.
“Thank you!” I smile my brace-less smile gratefully. My mom, Auntie Tamara, Bryan, uncle Lou, uncle Shaun, some of my little cousins, and my older cousin Monique are all here to bask in the greatness of my cooking.
“See, me know how feh cook! Ya tink me nah know,” I say to them, pretending to be hurt. When in reality, I could give a dam about what they think about my cooking.
“Stop de nonsense gyal,” my Uncle Lou says, smirking. We all begin to laugh.
“Where are the other 2 musketeers and Karma?” my cousin Monique asks.
“They’re over at Rebecca’s. Laura’s doing Zada’s hair,” I answer. Everyone understands, because when it comes to Zada and her hair, nothing should ever come in between that.
It’s good that everyone’s talking and getting comfortable at the dinner table.
“Babe, you wanna sit down with us?” mom asks me. I honestly don’t feel like it. I’m just too tired to eat.
“Nah that’s okay, I’ll eat a little later. I’ll be in my room,” I say, smiling at everyone. I take off my apron, lay it on the kitchen counter and then head upstairs to my room.
Laying on my bed with my eyes closed, in the middle of being asleep and awake, I start to dream. In this dream it’s nighttime and I’m walking around outside. It’s nearly pitch-black, but I’m not frightened by it. I just keep walking down this street I’ve never seen before. Then all of a sudden there’s this man standing at the end of this street. It seems as if he’s waiting for me. He seems familiar, but not so much. Waiting and waiting as he stands there. The weird thing, is that I continue to walk towards him without a fear in the world. The even weirder thing is, even though I continue to walk towards this man, the distance between us just gets farther and farther and farther …..
I’m abruptly woken up with a knock on the door.
“Who is it?” I say sleepily with an attitude. I really wanted to see where that dream was going. I don’t like to not know the endings of stories.
“It’s your mother,” mom replies, then opening the door before I could even say for her to come in.
“You alright? Ya nah eat?” she asks. She’s dressed in her pajamas, but she still looked as if she was going out. My mother is a very pretty woman if I say so myself. She even got her hair done earlier, so her hair is jet-black all the way down her back with dipped blonde ends.
“Yeah mom, I’m fine. I was just tired and I’m not hungry,” I say. I then sneak a peek and my iPhone to check the time. 11:51. Everyone must’ve left already.
“How did the orthodontist appointment go?” she asks, still in my doorway. I almost forgot about that. My teeth feel free. giggles
“It actually went pretty quickly and well. Dr. Farms said he’d call you this week to tell you how it went.”
“Alright. If you need someone to talk to about anything, I’m here. And if not me, talk to God about it,” she says. “Goodnight Yas,” leaving my room.
“Goodnight mom.” Now why did she say that? I swear my mom’s a mind reader, because apart from being tired, I’ve had this weird feeling all day, but I haven’t said anything to anyone about it. Hell, I don’t even know what it is. I get like this every year in September. Maybe it’s because school is in 3 days. I don’t care for school too much.
“Whatever,” I say, dismissing that drama. I need to do something to get my mind off of this and I think I know just what to do. I hop off my bed and walk over to my desk drawer which holds all my favorite DVDs.
I begin to search through tons of DVDs. I see Friday, Stomp the Yard, Waist Deep, Juice, but not the movie I’m looking for.
“Oh yeah, I left it in Laurie’s room last month.” See, I was sick last month and Laurie wanted to cheer me up. I love that girl.
After getting the DVD from Laurie’s room, I put it into the television set and it starts to play. I’d have to say, Poetic Justice is my all time favorite movie. Not only is 2pac, the finest man who ever rapped, in the movie, but it also inspired me to write poetry a couple years ago. Janet Jackson plays a woman named Justice who loves to write poetry. The poems are actually real poems by Maya Angelou and ever since I first saw this movie when I was 12, I was hooked and began to write poetry. I don’t write as much anymore, but I never completely stopped.
Looking at 2pac’s face on my TV screen reminds me of someone I know. His face seems so familiar. That’s why I have posters of him on my walls and all of his music and movies he’s acted in. It’s like some weird type of connection and I feel comfortable with it. That’s also why I strive to have my own individuality. “Thug life” is my motto. He’s my inspiration I guess you could say.
Actually when I think about it, the guy in my dream looks really similar to 2pac, but I feel like its something deeper.
I wish Laura and Zada were here so I can talk to them. I’ll just tell them tomorrow though. It’s probably just another weird dream.