Keep It On The Real

52

Yatta's POV

"This is your fucking problem, Kenyana. Somebody tell you something to help your dumb ass and you never wanna listen!" Mamé went on and on as she wheeled me into the house. I had my arm propped on the side of my wheelchair with my face all in it, over the whole conversation and ready to go to sleep.

"Ight, blood."

"Don't blood me, nigga. You acting like you don't even care! We've been in the hospital for a whole week! I'm the one busting my ass to do shit and help you, but you don't even care!" She continued to yell for no reason.

"You buggin."

"I'm buggin? Kenyana, you continued to drink that shit and pop those pills while on the prescribed medicine your doctor gave you. I'm buggin because the doctor said that your whole body could have shut down that night if we showed up just an hour later. How many times do we have to go through these life threatening situations for you to open your fuckin eyes and realize that this shit ain't doing nothing good for you? If you can't even do it for yourself, remember that you have a son." She walked past me, leaving me in the living room alone.

I shook my head and followed after her and into the room.

"Where the fuck is it?" She asked as she snatched open the drawers, tossing out my clothes.

"The fuck, where is what?" I asked as she threw a shirt at me. "Blood, you makin a whole fuckin mess."

"Where the fuck is it! The codeine, the pills! Where the fuck they at?" She stopped and turned to me.

I kept quiet and just stared back at her. I could tell she was heated because her hands shook rapidly, and she tapped her foot quickly.

"Yatta, where the fuck is it at!" She yelled as she walked into the closet. "I want all that dumb ass shit out my house!"

"Don't worry bout where the fuck it's at! That shit don't concern you."

"It's in my damn house where my son lay his head. Where them damn pills." She walked towards my nightstand.

"You need to chill the fuck out! On Cork, you pissing me off." I mugged her as I grabbed her arm, but she yanked away from me.

"You think I ain't mad? You got me so fuckin bent, stupid ass nigga." She looked around the nightstand before looking under the bed.

"Watch yo mouth, I ain't stupid!" I yelled back at her.

"You actin real stupid though. Where are the damn pills?" She stood up and looked at me.

"I said don't worry bout it."

"What is wrong with you? Why can't you let me help you?"

"I don't need help, I'm good." I responded.

"You're an addict-"

"The fuck you just say? Got me fucked up, blood." I mugged the shit out of her and she kept one on her face as well.

"You heard me."

"I ain't no fuckin addict, moe. I can stop taking this shit when I wanna."

She kept quiet and went back into the closet. I followed after her and watched where she searched next.

To be honest, I can't stop taking them. Those drugs have been in my system since I was a young boy, so I feel like if it hasn't done anything to me since then, it shouldn't fuck me up now.

I'm pissed that Mamé even called me a damn addict. She out of all people should know how I feel about that, since she knows about the situation with my mama. It may be hard for me to stop taking the pills, but I'm definitely not a fiend.

"Your stupid ass-" She cut herself off. "Ugh!"

I watched her walk out the closet with my black MCM backpack in her hand, the same bag I kept some of my syrup in. All that shit cost, so I'm definitely not letting her throw all that shit away.

"Mamé...." I started. "You don't needa do this."

"No, you don't need to do this! What's the point? Where is this gonna take you, but to the grave? How is this helping you get better in any way? What are you gonna gain from this?" She asked as she sped past me and into the bathroom.

"Stop fuckin buggin and gimmie my shit! On Cork, you blowin me."

"Stay mad, the fuck! I'm tryna help your dumb ass, all you worried bout is these drugs."

"You gon stop calling me dumb." I grabbed onto her arm and she tried yanking herself away from me, but with the grip I had on her, I wasn't bugging.

"Let me the fuck go! Stupid ass, you pissing me off on God!" She yelled as she struggled to pry my hands off her.

"Gimmie my shit! You pissin me off too, the fuck." I held onto her tighter.

"You finna hurt me, let me go!" She yanked away from me again and I let her go. She made her way to bathroom with the bag still in her hand, and I shook my head as I followed after her.

"That shit cost, Mamé."

"I don't care." She spoke, closing the door behind her and locking it.

"Open the fuck up!"  I banged on the door and she yelled back.

"No!"

"Mamé, Im not playing." I clenched my jaw as I continuously turned the door knob.

"Where are the games, Kenyana? I'm not playing either." She yelled back over the toilet flushing.

"The fuck....you bet not be flushing my shit! Mamé!" I yelled as I tugged on the knob. I didn't want to break it, so I looked around the room until I found a pair of scissors to pick the lock.

"What the fuck."

"I been hittin house licks since a youngin, too easy." I tossed the scissors on the counter.

"You know what, fuck this." She stopped pouring out the opened bottle, and threw my bag in my face.

"If this what you wanna do, then do it." She walked past me, and out the bathroom.

"Ight then." I looked down at a couple of the empty bottles of syrup on the floor.

I shook my head and tossed the bag down and off my lap, wheeling out the bathroom and into the room.

"Where you goin?" I mugged her as she aggressively put on her shoes. She still had a mug on her face so I didn't want to bother her, but I know damn well she ain't trying to leave me.

"Jas got an appointment and she want me to go with her." She responded as she took her phone off the charger.

"What time you gon get back?"

"I don't know. We going to eat afterwards and then I'll pick Kj up from Siya's." She was already walking out the door while finishing her sentence.

"Ight, I'll see you." I spoke but she was already out the room. I leaned back in my wheelchair and sighed.

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