Oh My...

3.) Bitch

Maybe it was because I was still feeling suicidal, but I got in the car with them.

Now, if you're a female, you already know that climbing in a car with two twenty year old boys is a huge no-no. If my mom found out about this, she'd probably have a heart attack. Then again, she probably wouldn't be too happy about my suicide attempt either.

I sat in the middle of the backseat and watched as Marshall took out a blue pack of Dutch Masters and slid out a cigar. Rap blared, but it must of been some local shit because I didn't recognize any of it. "So," Marshall began as he broke open the dutch, "why do you want to commit suicide?"

"EM! Yo if you don't shut the fuck up. You can't just fuckin' ask someone why they want to commit suicide-"

"Nah, it's okay. I don't really care, to be honest." I cut Deshaun off and stiffened. Cracking my knuckles, I tried to think of the best way to explain it. All I could come up with is: "Do you ever just fuckin' hate yourself?"

Marshall burst into a fit of laughter. "Every fucking day, dude!" He roasted the blunt with his lighter and stuck the skinnier end in between his lips. "Still, you can't just fuckin' end it. You need to fight through that shit. Be tough. Don't be fuckin' coward."

My eyes fell into slits. I leaned forward and whispered, "You don't think I've been trying?"

Marshall turned his head and gave me the dirtiest look. "Yo I don't even know you like that, but I'm just saying everyone has a hard life. The world fucking sucks, get over it."

"So why fuckin' stay in it, hmm?" I retorted, my voice rising with emotion. "If it's always gonna fucking suck, what's the fucking point of me suffering through it? Explain that to me, Marshall."

"Now guys, I don't-"

"No Doody, I got this." Marshall sparked the blunt and took a long drag. After rudely blowing smoke into my face, he replied with a simple sentence: "It's selfish."

"What? Who the fuck are you?"

"You're just gonna throw your whole fucking life out because shit's hard when you're a teenager? Look, you've been here- what? Eighteen years?"

"Sixteen."

Marshall's eyes widen in surprise, and even Deshaun turned around to take a brief look at me. Em puffed out a sigh. "Jesus Christ, sixteen...anyway, you've been on this Earth for sixteen years, and whether you like it or not you've effected a lot of people and a lot of things in those sixteen years-"

"Oh, I guess this is the part where you say how I should be more considerate towards my mom and shit. Well, tough shit about that, she fuckin' forced me to live with my aunt because she couldn't handle me. That's the whole reason why I'm even here!"

Marshall paused and passed the blunt to Deshaun, who began to smoke while he drove. "Why do you assume shit? No, I wasn't going to say that. And for the record, I hate my mom too."

Deshaun held the dutch out for me. I took it and inhaled. At first, my mouth and throat burned as the smoke traveled to my lungs, but almost immediately after a warm feeling wrapped around my brain. My arms and legs went numb, and my eyelids fell halfway down my eyes.

I took another hit and passed it to Marshall. "Why do you hate your mom?"

"Why do you hate yours?"

I pulled my eyebrows together and smirked. "Do I really have to explain?"

He bit back a smile and shook his head. "No, I guess not."

Deshaun began to shift. "Yo, is that Kim?"

I didn't realize how far we had drove while Marshall and I were talking. Outside the car, small shops connected to one another glowered with dull lights in the dark night. Despite the fact that it was almost eleven, the sidewalk was still bustling with groups of friends and couples. A few young girls stood behind buildings or in front of street signs, and gangs hustled on stoops like the police weren't lurking on every corner.

We stopped in front at a red light when Deshaun caught sight of a couple of blondes walking down the street.

Marshall shrank in his seat. "Aw, fuck! Yo can we go!?" he turned towards me. "Yo get down bitch!"

"Huh?" We were almost finished the blunt, and I was starting to feel high. At first, nothing he said processed--only the fact that he called me a bitch. "Yo, who the fuck do you think you are?! Callin' me a bitch, fuck outta-"

"Proof?"

The girls noticed us and began walking through the traffic to our car. Marshall's face paled and he locked eyes with me.

So did Kim. "Aye who the fuck is this bitch?!"

"Yo I swear to God I don't fucking know her-"

"Bullshit you fuckin' cheater, I can't believe this shit!" The blonde girl yanked the back door open, grabbed my arm, and pulled me halfway out the car. "Really, Marshall?! You fucked this fuckin' burnout?!"

"She was going to kill herself, Kim!" Marshall was fuming.

"Why do you fucking care? You were gonna fuck her."

"You're a heartless bitch."

"Kim you need to chill-"

"Shut the fuck up, Proof. I hate when you try to mediate shit, just shut the fuck up. This isn't your fucking argument."

"Don't talk to my friend like that!" Marshall barked, rolling his hands into fist.

Kim perked up an eyebrow. "Then tell your friend to mind his fuckin' business."

I looked at my arm; her acrylic nails were digging into my skin. I began to struggle to get free. "Yo lemme the fuck go bitch I don't fuckin' know either of these-"

"You really have the audacity to talk to me right now?!" Kim shrieked, jerking my arm and throwing me out of the car. I landed on the street, right in front of a dark red mini van.

Horns were blaring. The light turned green and I scampered to my feet. I was about to run to the car and slide in, but Marshall pushed passed Deshaun and shoved Kim away from the car. He slammed the back door shut and sped off.

At first, I was stunned. But the loud screaming of horns knocked me back into reality; I realized I was still standing in the middle of street. I rushed to the sidewalk, swerving passed cars that didn't bother to slow down. Just as I reached the pavement, someone's fist collide with my skull.

I fell into the door of a pizza parlor and slipped to my knees. There, Kim's friends began to kick me.

Kim jogged over to us; tears were streaming down her cheeks, but she quickly wiped them away. "If I ever-"

"Don't worry about it," I groaned, holding my aching body. "I won't talk to him again." Why would I want to talk to a pussy who's afraid of his own girlfriend? I couldn't believe he actually left me in the middle of the road.

Kim stared at me for a moment before nodding in satisfaction. "Have a nice life."

"Yeah, you too bitch."