M͓̽y͓̽ c͓̽o͓̽n͓̽v͓̽i͓̽c͓̽t͓̽ [B͓̽W͓̽W͓̽M͓̽]

2-Moving On✔

+Brandy

5 years later

After the night with Elijah, I woke up from my sleep with no sign of him around. Even the dead bodies, were nowhere to be found. When it came time for me to leave the club, everyone looked at me like I was insane, kind of like they knew something I didn't. Shanelle didn't even talk to me, she acted like she didn't even know me.

It was awkward, to say the least, but then a few weeks later, there was something delivered to my front door. It was money, a whole lot of it.

5.2 billion dollars to be exact.

It was creepy, but I didn't question it. Money doesn't just pop out of the middle of nowhere for everyone. So I took the money and left town, doing what my mother told me to do. Starting over, to straighten up my life. Moving to Atlanta, I'm now working at a hair salon, which I own. Providing for me and my son, Elliot James Robinson.

EJ for short.

Turns out, my uterus actually does work. A month after Elijah and I had that moment in the club, I found out that I was pregnant with Elliot. Being pregnant and alone wasn't exactly easy, but it all worked out in the end. I made him a trust fund, making sure to put half of the money in it for him. With the rest of the money, I brought a house (nothing too big), and two cars. With what was left, I bought some stocks.

Elliot is a handful and looks so much like his father. He was first diagnosed with autism when he was two years old. Since his birth, I struggled to get him to eat. He was very thin, so child services sent someone to weigh him weekly. All he did was sleep and then as he got older, it was impossible to get him to go to sleep. Eventually, I learned that Elliot has autism.

Elliot is now five years old and he is currently getting ready for his first time going to daycare. He's not exactly excited about going, but the doctor says it's good for him to be around kids that share the same disability as him.

He doesn't really like to talk much, but we've been working on it. Sign language is one way we communicate. He doesn't like any hot food, nor cold. Food has to be the right temperature or he won't eat at all. He likes everything organized and hates when people touch him. Well everyone but me.

"Baby, it's time to go." I sign to Elliot. He's reading the book, "No flying in the house." Which right now is his favorite. The book is advanced for his age, which is surprising to some but not to me. When he was a baby he loved when I read to him, so I knew when he grasped the concept of reading he'd be great at it.

Elliot puts his head down further in his book and pretends to not hear me. After a few seconds, he looks up a little and frowns when he sees me standing at the door. "Okay." He signs, getting off his bed. He puts on his shoes and starts fidgeting with his fingers.

"Come on bud, you're gonna do great," I say to him, grabbing his hands. "Everyone is going to love you." We walk out of the house and I lock the door, before helping him into the car. Starting up my black 2018 Range Rover, I ease onto the road, making sure to do the correct speed limit. Checking the time on the stereo, it's a quarter past eight meaning I was going to be late to work. Looking at my wing mirror, Elliot is still fidgeting with his fingers. "Elliot baby what's your name mean?"

He stops fidgeting with his fingers and lightly bites down on his lip. "Jehovah is God." He says lowly.

"And why did I name you that?"

Elliot looks at me through the mirror. "So I'd be an example of what God's blessing looks like."

I nod my head. "Exactly baby. So don't be nervous, they're gonna worship the ground you walk on." The fact that Elliot is going to daycare scares me. We've always been around each other, since the day he was born and now I have to let him go. Some part of me wanted to keep him with me forever.