nir·va·na
a state of perfect happiness; an ideal or idyllic place.
where we see what happens when an emptiness that one thought could never be filled is overflowing. when two lost souls find each other. where a broken record plays a perfect harmony...
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September had rolled around before she knew it. Last night she couldn't get any sleep, she sat up looking through the pictures she kept in her room of her parents, while her aunt cried across the hall. There was glass shattering and tears spilled all throughout the house.
Na'imah would feel bad for her if it weren't for the obvious.
She hadn't felt any love for her aunt in years. She was simply her caregiver and barely that. When she first got adopted, her aunt was extremely indifferent toward Na'imah. She was never beaten as a child, popped occasionally but never beaten. So when she moved in with Kat and Alan, and got beat for any little mistake she was confused.
She never got the chance to mourn her parents peacefully after being thrown into such a hellish environment. Her social worker came by one time for a check in and never returned so her aunt—her father's sister—was really the only person she had to turn to.
Kat wasn't dealing with the loss of her brother well. She drank often and Na'imah was often on the receiving ends of these episodes. She would hear her aunt asking God why it was her instead of Nasir. Why she had to be the only part of Nasir she had left, and as a child it shattered her to know that not only were her parents gone, but her only family didn't even want her living.
After a year or two, she started to get used to it.
Used to the hitting and the name calling, used to getting burned with cigarettes for forgetting to do a chore, she got used to having her life wished away. Her tears dried up, and she became void. The only emotions she were feeling were sadness and fear. Eventually as she got older, she learned to survive. The times she tried to fight back never ended well so she gave up.
"Na'imah!" she heard Kat yell to her for the sixth time that day. Usually she was extremely respectful and quick about responding, but she was being worked all day and she didn't understand why. She thought she could have at least one day to mourn. One day to not be treated like property.
"Ma'am," she mumbled once reaching the living room.
"Clean dis' shit up, my house a mess an' you sittin' on ya ass not doin' a damn thing," she spat, gesturing toward the broken glass shards scattered around the room, making her sigh to herself, walking to get the broom.
She swept, listening to her aunt cry like she did every year. She wished she had the luxury of mourning her parents freely like that.
"Maybe if her ass wasn't fuckin drunk," she mumbled to herself, feeling anger rise from her chest into her cheeks. She rarely ever swore, but every now and again Na'imah would buck up. Her anger overtook any of her rational thoughts, and it was usually around her parents birthday's or today.
"Whatchu said?" she heard her aunt, making her roll her eyes. "Speak up! Since you smellin' ya'self,"
"Maybe," she spoke louder, feeling her blood beginning to boil in her veins. "If you wasn't fuckin drunk I wouldn't have ta' clean shit up!" she spoke, all her anger releasing in her words.
