***Hey Guys, Check out Alsina by _Trillest. She has shown me love from day one, and she's in the process of writing a wonderful story and her views are low. Comment, Vote, Check it out!
http://www.wattpad.com/49014126-alsina?utm_source=web&utm_medium=link&utm_content=share_info&ref_id=26315705
Also, the chant Aug and Durrell say is the in the M/M. It's one of the first ones they say. ****
AMBER P.O.V. –
“Amber who is that?” My mother called out from the living room.
I rushed to the door.
“Who car outside baby?” Aug bent down and pecked my lips.
“My--.”
“Her mother’s.” My mother came in cutting me off and greeting us with a scowl.
“How are you Ms. Riley?” August was trying his best to be respectful.
“Could be better. Amber can I talk to you for a second?” My mother folded her arms and looked at me.
“Ma, we can talk later.” I said letting her know I didn’t feel like discussing it.
“No we need to talk now.” She looked at August then me.
August closed the door and took off his shoes.
“Babe, you can go upstairs. I’ll be there.” He kissed my forehead, looked at my mother and walked out.
That pissed my mother off even more. She cut her eyes at him like they were shards of glass, as he walked up the stairs.
“You gave that boy a key to your house!” She yelled in a whisper. “Have you lost your damn mind?”
“Mama, what I do with my house, that I pay the mortgage on, is my business. Hell, I paid for your house and I rarely give you grief about how you have Durrell living in there rent free. ” I said not bothering to whisper.
I took care of my mother financially as well. I gave her money every month and paid for whatever bills she needed help on. And I had no problem with that. She’s my mother. She sacrificed everything for me. EVERYTHING.
It pains my heart to think about the trajectory of my mother’s life. She was one of the top ballet dancers in the country. She graduated from The Juilliard School. That is one of the top schools for performing arts.
And she had just became a member of the infamous Alvin Alley Dance Theater, which was her ultimate dream. But when they were about to embark on tour, she got pregnant with Durrell. That cut her dream short.
I look at the picture of my mother hanging over my fire place, everyday. And I am just stunned at how gorgeous she was. And I often imagine how much happier she would be in life, if she didn’t have me and Durrell.
The black and white picture starring at me, like portrait that belonged in a museum. Her white flowing leotard dress, accentuating her perfect slender frame. Her hair in a perfect pony-tail down her back. Her face full of possibility. Screaming, I am the future of dance.
She probably would’ve been a Judith Jamison, had her planned not get messed up. So I don’t mind taking care of her. I’ve seen her struggle working two jobs. Her going hungry, just so we can eat. And I would never allow her to do that anymore.
But I would not take her dictating my life.
“I’m trying to look out for you. But you too stupid to even see that.”
