Finding Sapphire

Feeling Myself

Growing up under the guidance of Helen Cloudchase had its highs and lows. My mother, a stunning woman with long black hair, thick curves, and piercing eyes, was an exceptional parent one day and vanished for days on end the next, consumed by drugs. My father, Lawrence Birdsong, the most powerful kingpin in the tri-state area, passed away years ago. He was the epitome of a loving father to me and my sister Onyx, but our brother Cepheus wasn't his biological son; nevertheless, he treated him as such. We never lacked anything we required, and we had everything we desired. When he died, a part of my mother died alongside him. She started to relapse into Nate's arms again and became addicted to drugs heavily. Onyx became my mother's replacement by middle school, and I began kissing her ass at the age of fourteen. I was sixteen and filling out, looking like Helen Cloudchase. My mother and father were both adopted as children but came from the same reservation. Helen was beautiful with long black hair, long lashes, and a voluptuous figure that resembled a Native American Jennifer Lopez but thicker. My father was tall, handsome, and brown-skinned; many people in our neighborhood lusted after him, but he only had eyes for Helen Cloudchase. Her adoptive surname was Jackson, but she reclaimed her birth mother's last name when she turned eighteen. My father's adoptive family permitted him to retain his last name, Birdsong. Neil Birdsong, my father's birth father, was a mix of black and indigenous peoples and was involved in drug trafficking and other criminal activities. Everything was family-based with them. My grandmother sold drugs alongside my grandfather, my aunts, uncles, cousins; I remember walking into the kitchen at the age of six and seeing my uncle Bryan counting stacks of money while my mother sat in a corner bagging cocaine, and my aunt Nayeli bagged other drugs. They never allowed outsiders to work with them. That is why we never had to deal with cops or raids. Although Onyx and I learned at an early age that what they were doing was wrong, we didn't complain because every weekend we were at the mall or attending events. When my father died, my mother continued running the business with my aunts and uncles; however, things began to fall apart when she started using the supply herself. I stared into the mirror shaking off the depression that consumed me inside. It was the first day of my ninth-grade year, and I was nervous. I excelled academically but socially I was on my own except for having two friends - Lamonica and Marissa.

The red long sleeve top hugged my curves in all the right places, accentuating my hourglass figure. The fabric was soft against my skin, and I loved the way it complemented my complexion. I paired it with close-fitting blue jeans that hugged my thighs and flared slightly at the bottom. The denim felt smooth against my legs, and I could feel the fabric stretching over my hips. I completed the look with a pair of brown moccasins that laced up the front. The leather was supple and comfortable, and I could feel the soles gripping the floor as I walked.

My long, curly, brown hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, securing it with a black hair tie. The ponytail sat high on my head, allowing me to see clearly as I made my way downstairs. I grabbed my coat from the hook by the door and slipped it on before heading out.

At the kitchen table sat my younger sister Onyx. She was flipping through the mail, her eyes scanning each envelope as she smoked a cigarette. Her long, dark hair was pulled back into a messy bun, and she wore a simple white t-shirt and black leggings. She looked up as I entered the room, her eyes flickering with recognition.

"Hey," she said, blowing out a cloud of smoke. "Where are you going?"

I shrugged. "Just running some errands."

Onyx raised an eyebrow. "You're wearing your coat in September? Are you trying to hide something?"

I laughed nervously. "No, just chilly."

Onyx nodded skeptically but didn't press the matter further. Instead, she turned her attention back to the mail, flipping through it idly. I couldn't help but notice that she had a new manicure - bright red nails that glinted in the light. She looked up at me again, her eyes lingering on my face for a moment before she spoke.