If I Love Myself[On Hold]

Chapter 8

Mind Is A Prison, Alec Benjamin

Quote;

Happiness can be foreign
For those who have not lived.

Chapter 8.

     "Got any family," he asks. "Maybe they can take you in."

     "I don't have family."

     "Friends?"

     Ha, never heard of them.

     He frowns, glancing over at me. "You must have someone."

     Julian.

     "I don't have anyone."

     "I love you."

     "All I have... is me." That's just gonna have to be enough.

     He nods, more to himself than to me, turning the windshield wipers on. Rain beats down on the window and I lean my head against it. When I was little, whenever I cried it felt like the sky was crying with me. Now, I have no tears left to muster. At least not now.

     Kareem pulls up in front of a small, brick house. The porch light is on and the rain comes down harder, followed by the darkening of the sky. We're in for a long night. One I'm not sure I'm prepared for. Kareem unlocks the car door, pulling me out of my thoughts. He offers me a tiny half smile, trying to be reassuring. His smile does not achieve that. In fact, it terrifies me.

     Grabbing the key out of the ignition, he gets out the car, and I follow suit. Tugging the trash bag out after me, abruptly, his door slams and I jump. Letting out a shaky breath, he comes around and closes mine. My breath begins to quicken as he leads me up the steps, to the front door.

     Not everyone is out to get me.

     He unlocks the door, holding it open for me to enter. Against my better judgement, I enter his home. Warmth instantly engulfs me and I shiver, only now just realizing how cold I was.

     The door shuts softly behind me and he clears his throat. I turn to face him and he slips out of his coat, now drenched in water. Kareem gestures for me to do the same and slowly, but surely, I do. Handing it over to him, he hangs mine on top of his.

     "So uh, welcome, I guess. It isn't much. But it's mine." He says, walking past me and into, what I assume, is his living room.

     Following him like some sort of lost puppy, I stare at his picture frames. A few of them are of Kareem along with an older woman, probably his mom. I reach out and touch the frame, the dust settling on my fingertips.

     I focus my attention onto another frame, one with him, his daughter, and the same woman from the last photo. Then, the very last one, is just of him and his little girl. Beautiful.

     I wish I had a family.

     "You comin?"

     Nodding wordlessly, I enter the living room. The room is fairly small, playing host to one couch and a tiny television set. He collapses onto the couch, a low grunt escaping him.

     Slowly edging over to sit beside him, I look around the room. In the corner there was a tiny crate, inside appeared to be a couple of dolls and a few stuffed animals. His daughter.

     "Where is she?" I murmur, looking over at him for a split second. "Your kid."

    "With my ma, they'll be back soon though."

     Relaxing a little more, he cuts on the tv. The voice from the reporter distracts both of us from the awkward situation at hand. Temporarily, that is.

     He clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck. "So uh, what did you mean by you uh, you got no family?"

     "I don't have family."

     "Grandpa? Uncle? Cousins?" He questions further, taking note of my expression, he sighs. "Well uh — you get kicked out your place? How long you been out on the streets? It ain't safe. There's shelters all around this city. They ain't that good far as I've heard but they something."

     I don't want to go to a shelter.

     "Well-"

    "I asked too many questions. You must be kinda tired. You can stay here tonight. Michelle and I would love to have you here. We can decide what to do in the morning and-"

    "Why are you doing this for me?" I blurt out, instantly clamping my mouth shut.

    Kareem stands up, shuffling over to the kitchen. "Let's just say, I get what it's like to not have nothing to eat. Not know where my next meal is comin'. To not know if you'll ever have a nice bed to sleep in. Hell, just a mattress is enough to make my little eight year old dreams come true."

     "I'm sorry, I-"

     "It's fine," he calls out, pots and pans smashing against one another as he speaks. "Don't gotta think about that no more. Hope you're hungry."

    Starving.

    Looking down at the to-go box on my lap, I take the liberty of throwing out the food. For now, I don't have to worry about that. I'll have something already hot to eat. That's comforting for me.. at least right now.

     "You should go ahead and shower or something." Kareem says, "Food won't be done for a while. I texted my ma, she gonna bring some clothes for you. Hope they fit."

    He has to want something. No man is gonna do any of these things without a price. Nobody is that nice.

     Emerging from the kitchen, wiping his hands on the towel, Kareem stares at me. "Watchu still sitting here for? Go clean up."

     I don't speak, but stare in return.

     "Look, I'm not gonna do anything to you. My ma raised me better than that."

     He waits for a minute, expecting some sort of reaction from me. There is none. After a moment, Kareem lets out a sigh and walks back into the kitchen.

     Not everyone is out to get you.

A/N

Thank you so much for reading this chapter, it really means a lot to
me! How do you guys feel
about the story
so far?

Can't wait to hear all your thoughts and read all of your opinions.

Love you all.

( ˘ ³˘)♥