Annalisa Green -- March 23rd, 1991 Location: 1341 Evergreen St.
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I struggled to keep my focus on my sheet of paper, as the antidepressants were finally kicking in. Soon I would be falling asleep. I couldn't wait.
I haven't eaten since ten o'clock last night — it's one in the afternoon now. My appetite is nonexistent since they switched my prescription pills. No worries though, I'd rather not eat —
"Ana!"
My hand ceased as I looked towards my bedroom door. Aunt Jolene viciously knocked and I realized that she'd probably been standing there for a while now.
I blew out a soft breath and stood up from my desk in the corner of my room. My feet slowly dragged along the soft carpeted floor. The last thing I wanted was to be seen by anyone outside of this door. I was in here for a reason.
My hand touched the cold metal knob, and I twisted it to the left, pulling it open. There staring back at me, Aunt Jolene. Nothing short of a scowl.
Without permission, she barged into my room. She was dressed in a sky blue flower dress, black three inch heels, and a baby pink apron to cover it. Her hair was very curly and short, with light makeup on her face and pearl earrings to complete her outfit.
No doubt, my aunt was beautiful. Often times, I'd caught myself staring, amazed. I would die to be as pretty as her.
".. pork chops and greens on the stove, Jolee," she said, snapping me out of my wandering thoughts.
I blinked and looked her shyly in the eyes. "I'm not hungry, Aunt Jolene."
"Like hell you're not!" She put her hands on her hips. "You've been cooped up in your room all day, baby. You need some food in your system."
"I'm fin—"
"What did I say?" Aunt Jolene narrowed her eyes at me. "You need to eat. Now come on. Harry should be on his way home."
Before I could further protest, she was already pulling me out of my room. I adjusted my cap over my eyes with my free hand while we walked downstairs together.
I could smell the delicious aroma of 'soul food' as Aunt Jolene would put it. It consisted of fried porkchops, mac and cheese, greens, yams, and her homemade sweet potato pie. And to wash it all down — fruit punch flavored Kool-Aid.
My stomach practically screamed for me to stop torturing it, and to eat for both of our sakes. But my appetite wouldn't let me be.
Just as I took a seat across from her, the front door sounded. That familiar deep, grumpy voice rang through my ears making me smile in excitement.
