Fly Girl | [Novel] (Wattpad Version)

3| Everyday Struggles

Leann -

Walking home from school, I shook my head and continued rapping to myself as I passed by a group of older men. The same older men who didn't care about the fact that I was underage; they still shouted lewd and trifling things to me, damn near begging to take me somewhere just so they could get into my pants.

"Aye Ma, I know you hear me talking to you, with yo fine ass. Every day you walk past us in them tight uniform pants. Don't ever give a nigga no play though."

I rolled my eyes, still walking as I shouted behind me. "I am a teenager."

"And what does that mean? We all grow up a lil' early and fast 'round here, Shawty. Stop acting like you're all pure and shit, get with a real nigga right quick." I shook my head, speeding up as I finally reached the corner that I needed to turn on to get to my street. I only had to walk past one complex to get home. "Come on Shawty, you ain't all innocent as you act."

Turning the corner, I let out a sigh of relief, glad that he hadn't chosen to follow me today.

No, I wasn't pure or innocent, but I hadn't lost my innocence by choice either. I didn't try to act grown, or grow up any faster than I needed to... I had to. There were things I'd do to take care of myself, but sleeping with random men for the things my former friends considered worth it would never be one of the choices I made. I wasn't going to be some hood rat, stuck trickin' or selling for a bum dude around any of the wards in New Orleans. I wasn't going to be somebody's baby mama, stuck at home with no education, job, or values while said baby daddy lived in and out of jail cells at Hunts or Angola.

Walking into the apartment I shared with my no-good father, I closed and locked the door behind me. For once, his friends weren't spread about the living room, drinking and smoking as if they didn't have family or responsibilities of their own. I'd have an afternoon off where I wouldn't have to play servant or pretend that I didn't feel one of them grabbing or pinching my ass every time I passed by with fresh cans and bottles of beer.

What I did find, however, was the usual mess he left for me while he either roamed the streets or held himself up in his bedroom, drinking or shooting up to escape his 'problems'. Bills, literally piled up to the ceiling in the corner where he always tossed them. While I could do without food a lot of times, I always went behind him to make sure I collected the bills I knew needed to be paid for the other things I needed. A home was a necessity, water was a necessity, lights were a necessity. Everything else, I couldn't care less how or when he handled it.

Though he'd once been a hero in our city, one of the few that rarely made it out to be something; he'd long since began his decline and fall back into a dilapidated housing project that had nothing to offer but trifling women looking to collect a new baby daddy and a new child support check, or dealers looking to hook new fiends while they tested the quality of the products they had coming in and out. My father had fallen prey to both. Leaving me to take care of a younger sibling, while he and his drugged out baby mama did God knows what with God knows who. Leaving me to work my ass off to make sure we still had a place to stay, a good amount of clothing, food for my brother, water, and lights. Taxing on a seventeen-year-old, but what else can I do? I hadn't seen my own mother, or any part of her family, since I was about three years old and I hadn't the slightest clue where to look or who to call to reach out to them. Then again, they knew I existed, and never made any attempts to see about me.

I'd just continue to do fine without them.

Kicking an open box out of my way, I walked into the kitchen and stared in disgust. Dishes everywhere, opened and half eaten cartons containing those instant dinners strewn about, and not a single fresh item to be seen. "Just one more year, Leann, one more year. Then you can bounce, and you can take KC with you. One more year."