Cole's P.O.V (Sunday)

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Tray and Santos just left, Kel and Zeny are gone, Raven just left and went somewhere. Mr and Mrs. Williams and Ms. Wright came back but they finna leave again. Then it's just gone be me and my baby here. "Cole." I hear and I turn my head. "Peep." Kyrie says and I see a bunch of smoke. Her mom making jellyfish and shit. "Your parents smoke?" I whisper while capturing her ear between my lips. "Uhh...like fucking...mhm...chimneys." She manages to get out. "Aight. We outta here. Be safe, have fun and don't do no dumb shit. Love y'all." "Love you too." Kyrie and I respond. The door closes and we just sit on the couch. I was running my fingers up her shirt and over her stomach. "Can I see your books?" I ask. "What books?" "The poetry ones." She nods and pulls me into the hallway. She goes to the closet and the whole top shelf is nothing but notebooks. "There's 152 to be exact. This is only half. The other I keep at my brother's." Kyrie says as she hands me 3 of them off rip. I open the green one and start reading.

Wednesday, January 12th, 2011. 3:45 pm

Are you fucking kidding me? This shit is getting so old. Every time something good happens, we end up on this fuck ass road again. This shit is really fucking with my nerves. I can fuck my life up on my own. I don't need them to do it for me. And they look at me like I'm a brat. Fuck? I'm not the one who takes on these giant responsibilities and I know I can't handle them. But I suffer the consequences. I go through bigger changes than they do. My education is being jeopardized and when I slip up, I hear a whole fucking speech on how I need to stay focused. HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO STAY FOCUSED IF WE'RE UNSTABLE?!?!?! I swear I'm gonna Hulk out one of these days.

"You okay?" I ask when I finish reading the entry. "Yea. It's just hard to read my notebooks again." "Can I know what you're talking about?" I ask and she nods. I pull her onto my lap and rest my hand on her waist. (A/N: What's finna be said by Kyrie is real shit. Js.) "It started when I was young. Maybe 6 or 7. I wasn't old enough to understand but we were almost like nomads. We'd stay somewhere for a minute before we're leaving again. At one point, we were straight up homeless. My mom had to hustle. Trying to make enough money for a motel, food and hygiene products. That's not so hard when you have help but my mom didn't. I was too young and once I came of age, she wouldn't let me help anyway. But I've seen what she did. I witnessed those breakdowns and I've heard her say that she's a failure. I've never thought that but I didn't have a miniscule amount of resent towards her for letting us live like this. That resentment turned into full blown hate but not towards my mom. No. My dad. At that time, my reaped all the benefits. My mom lied to hospitals to get narcotics and then she would sell them. That was her job for years and she bought in 700 to 1000 dollars a day. But every hustler gets tired. My mom was no exception. When my mom would ask my dad to do the same thing she was doing, he would make excuses and it the bothered the hell outta me. So, he and I fell off. Honestly, all the things I have, this house and my parents' jobs have only been in the picture since March of this year. And because I have been homeless, I've been without, I've been distressed, I don't take anything for granted. And I'm not trying to make it out the hood. I'm trying to make it out this struggle. Ain't no telling when and if we'll go back to our old life. But I'm gonna do everything in my power to be the best that I can be and be financially straight. My parents may not have me financially but they love me. So, I hold on to that." My girlfriend says and I just look at her. She seems so strong but there is tears rolling down her face and I can tell that she's been through. It's more to her past life and it rattles her. I feel like I'm looking at a new person.

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