Shepherd: An Autobiography (Ongoing)

Mundane Routine

          It's sunny, one of my new favorite songs is blasting from the speaker in his bag. But he doesn't know it's one of my favorites. We've been walking for a while now, for no reason in my opinion. He isn't a Wellbred Divinity like me, he's a Normie. Normies tend to have more physical and mental abilities instead of Divine ones like me. His is Speed, he can run as fast as 60mph and that would be a jogging pace for him.
         
          I've seen him run before and it was freaking awesome. He doesn't think it's that cool and prefers to just "be normal", but it's such a drag. I look around and we're somewhere downtown, the houses are in terrible condition and grungy. Up ahead is "our" house, at least it might as well be. It's the place where I lost my virginity to him and we hang out here all the time. Before, it was not anywhere near done being built but now, it seems to be.
         
          We go in through the back; the basement still has the planks showing and there's a garage now. I guess the house isn't complete just yet. He leads me up the stairs to the dining room on the first floor.
         
          "See, I told you the house is about done. The upstairs is even better though, come on."
         
          He hurries upstairs and I follow after him. There are three spacious rooms, a bathroom, and a wide closet. Feeling the cushiony carpet under my feet is so surreal; I got fucked in this house when it was nothing but a wooden shelter from the cold and now it's like it has grown up. In a weird way. I watch as he goes into the largest room to the right, go in after him, and close the door.
   
           The windows don't have blinds, allowing the sunlight to pour in. Yet it's very comfortable in here and cool, maybe the AC is on? He's already on the floor getting situated and I decide to join him. I plop myself onto the carpet and roll around, the room is completely empty so it's free reign for me. Laughing, he stops me and pulls me closer to him. I wriggle around and he tightens his grip on my waist.
   
              I giggle, "Lemme go, Henry."
   
            "Nah, I don't feel like it."
   
              I push myself off so that I'm beside him and we lay there, looking at each other. Before I know it his lips are on mine. His are bigger than mine by far but he kisses as if he doesn't know that. Regardless, I hold him and melt into the kiss. Henry's tongue meets mine and he grabs my ass. I put my leg on him, signaling for him to get on top of me. He does and kisses my neck, suckling on it, and nibbling all in one motion. I moan a little and wrap my legs around him.                             

                                
            
          "Henry??" I wake up, startled and discombobulated. I was just at the house wasn't I? Oh my god what the hell just happened? Then it comes to me.
             
          A Flashback Vision. I've never had Visions before though. Visions are like dreams except they are more intense and are landscapes that Divinities and others can be sucked into. Due to my insomnia, I never have them. Until now, apparently.
          
          I sit up in my bed and look at the clock on my nightstand; it's 11 in the morning. I rarely wake up this early, at least, not during the weekends.
          
          Wait.
           
          I turn back to face the door and there it is, my dagger. It's glimmering in the light coming from my windows as it floats in front of me. It slowly floats closer to me until the tip of the blade is only an inch away from my nose.
           
            This always happens, I've made a few Manifests over this last year. Manifests are exactly what they sound like, my Essence is infused in all of them and they are supposed to be my emotions, thoughts, or will, "manifested". Of course, a dagger is quite a disturbing thing to create. Especially, for it to Activate while I'm unconscious. I hold my hands out and it falls into them. I should show this to Jacqueline soon. I put down the dagger.                

         
          Groggy and confused, I make my way to the bathroom, my third favorite place to be. I go through the motions: turning on the light, locking the door behind me, flushing the stale urine left in the toilet by my little brother, and relieving myself.
          
           And yes, I flush his goddamn piss, everyday. For some reason, he never flushes it when he goes at night. Maybe it's because he's ten, I don't know and I don't really care anymore.
           
          Regardless, I flush and look at myself in the mirror. My chocolatey complexion is disturbed by a few acne scars and under eye bags, things I've come to terms with after a few years. My eyebrows are disheveled and my hair is probably worse under this oversized satin bonnet. I wash my face thoroughly and brush my teeth, following with mouthwash. Looking at myself again, I make several faces, a smile, a smirk, and a funny grimace. Weird as it may be, I love myself, intensely. I'm not the most beautiful girl ever but after years of me having low self esteem as a kid, I realized something.
          
           I honestly don't give a damn about people and their opinions because they're never constant and are always subjective. Everything changes over time and I gave up on others a while ago. Plus, self love is a journey I don't want to go down again. I tighten my bathrobe, and go downstairs, just to be greeted by sarcasm.
          
          "Ohh well look who it is! Niombe is alive!" My father smiles at me in the recliner and I roll my eyes.
           
           My bed is sounding real good right now, but even a hermit needs to eat. I make my way to the kitchen, where my mom is fixing her breakfast: spinach, tomatoes, eggs and cheese all cooked in the same pan with hardly any seasoning.
         
           "Hey Packy, great to see you up and walking around at this time." She grins widely and I can't help but try to give her one back. We have the same smile after all.
         
            "Good morning y'all but where's Jacqueline?" Jacqueline is my older sister and our relationship is kind of, funny. Growing up, we used to hate each other, I truly wanted her to disappear and she wanted even worse for me. Her life hasn't been easy at all ever since she started high school a few years back. She has two kids; a strong young mother because she has to be. But deep down, she is depressed and suffering. Mostly, because she put herself into this situation. All Jacqueline wants is a happy ending.
           
          Now, that she and her baby daddy, Aldo, has moved in with us, I'm older and more mature. And Jacqueline has been treating me a lot better; we are finally sisters again. My dad gets up and goes to the kitchen too, "She's sleeping with Josiah as best she can right now."
           
           Josiah is her second son, even though he is only one year old, he is very smart and complainative. The opposite of me when I was his age. He hardly let's my sister sleep.   
           Then there is Joseph, a handsome, hotheaded, five year-old boy. He has this weirdly adorable cowardly lion complex where he acts big and macho, but is fairly easy to mess with and tear down. He is probably playing with my little brother, Michael right now.
         
          I go to the pantry to make a hearty bowl of cereal. As I pour the milk, my mom takes her meal and sits down beside my dad; her butt is so wide it brushes against me and the fridge. I think of cracking a joke but she wouldn't like that. Oddly, she always seeks to hide her figure and whenever I point it out, she sees it as an insult. Truly, one of the weirdest black women I  know, that's probably where I get it from.
           
          Once I am done eating and scrolling through Instagram, mindlessly, I decide to go back upstairs. There is nothing for me down here right now. When my parents are engrossed in the news, that is all they talk about. I will admit this, however, since the presidential election that shook America about a couple years ago, the daily news has been entertaining as hell. It is so amusing how power makes people blind to their responsibilities and the world around them. One side hates the president and the other is respects but doesn't understand him; it's comedy gold.
          
          It all revealed to me how fragile people's minds are when what's comfortable to them gets ripped away and  has the potential to get replaced with the truth. Sheer delirium and desperation, like imps clinging onto human souls.
           
          Most look at me and instantly think they know where my opinions lie because of my demographic. But let's just say, I'm not your average black girl. Let alone Divinity.