𝐖𝐓𝐃𝐑.

025.

' 𝐓𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐃𝐀𝐘, 𝐅𝐄𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐘 𝟏𝟒, 𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟓 '
the richardson's residence ━━
compton, california !

"Phone calls aren't cutting it. I hate that I can't see him face to face, it just isn't fair." I pouted, my swollen eyes making my vision a complete blur. It was towards the end of my pregnancy and I was going through it difficulty. Instead of living at my house unattended, my parents forced me to stay with them. My mother had to constantly make me get out bed to eat every day. It was selfish of me to put Amara through my pain but it was hard for me to deal with the reality of everything.

I still couldn't believe Pac was away, secluded in a prison that was 42 hours away from me. Everything leading up to him going to prison was hurtful and still ached my heart. He was supposed to be here to prepare for our daughter's arrival but instead I was gonna be the only parent in attendance. I hated that so much and I couldn't help but to cry myself to sleep every night.

"It's Valentine's Day so why not write something to show him that you care?" I hadn't noticed today was a holiday but what do you expect from someone who no longer liked seeing the sunlight. Everything was darkness to me and I couldn't get out of this funk.

"Fine, I'll do it. But I'd appreciate it if you would let my label mates come over to see me. It's been months." I pleaded, on the verge of tears. In the midst of all that was going on, my mother felt as if she and my father were my only support system and that I didn't have anyone else that actually cared for my wellbeing.

I couldn't even take phone calls from them and it felt like I was living in a prison instead of the home that I grew up in. "Those people you were surrounding yourself around were nothing but pure trouble. You know how me and your father felt about you getting into the music industry anyway. Now look at you, pregnant out of wedlock with a man you're not even with, and around a bunch of hoodlums who don't care about nothing, is that what you want Amara to see?" She folded her arms as she sat back against her seat, her angry filled eyes piercing into mine.

"And I guess you putting me down is supporting me, huh? Well I've been successful as far as my career is concerned and my daughter will be raised right. I don't know why you think that your life is so perfect because we both know that isn't the case. You don't think I know what's going on do you?" I challenged her. I didn't wanna stoop to her level but she was pushing me to the limit.

"What are you talking about, Mika?" She softened her voice. "Shannon is her name, right? The lady in the church choir that's getting all of dad's attention. He's barely home anymore and he comes here smelling like nothing but sin." My mother quickly stood up and sent a backhand slap across the side of my face.

"You watch who you're talking to, I'm still your mother!" Her yell angered me to the core. The sting pained me but I wouldn't dare give her the satisfaction that she had won. "Don't get mad at me, get mad at him. You swear your life is all of that and I remember ever since I was a little girl, I wanted to be just like you. But now that I'm older, I realize your whole life was a lie. I'm aware you're a mother who just want what's best for her daughter, but I can't live for you, I have to live for me and Amara." I concluded my statement with a shaky breath as I stood up carefully and headed into my bedroom before shutting it behind me securely.

I was losing my sanity and I didn't know a better way to fix that other than by writing. Music was my escape from harsh reality of life and it had been ages since I picked up a pen. As soon as I grabbed a hold of my songbook and pen, as usual, the words just started flowing out of my mouth as I wrote the words on the canvas.