Surviving The Blues

22

The drive is quiet so far. Fifteen minutes have gone by and the GPS is reading twenty-five minutes left until our destination is reached. I move slightly to get comfy. I hiss a little. He looks over for a second, then focuses on the road again. We are caught in traffic with a slightly awkward air surrounding us. I sigh knowing father won't be happy about this.

"You shouldn't move so much." Glendale number two says.

"I assume your car costs a lot. It's not very comfy."He scoffs at my remark.

"How'd it happen?"He asks five minutes later.

"Huh?" I look over at him with furrowed eyebrows.

"Your arm. What happened to it in the first place?"

"You know who you look like?" A nine-year-old Titus asked.

"I don't care."

We were sent to the corner store by ourselves. It was my birthday and we were having a little party.

"Shrek. The two horns." Put both his hands up to imitate antlers. "A deer." He laughed as if it was funny. He was making fun of my two puffs. I hadn't forgiven him yet so being sent out with him already had me angry and emotional.

"You're not funny," I told him, my bottom lip stuck out.

"Are you going to cry?" He laughed again.

"No." I heaved.

"You cry, baby. You are crying. Faye is a cry baby."

"I am not!" I said, tears streaming down my face. "Leave me alone." Without looking, I walked into the street.

"Faye!" He exclaimed. I glimpsed the car from the side of my eye. I was on the ground in seconds. The car didn't hit me. No, Titus ran into the street pushing both of us away from the car. I was on the bottom and him on top of me.

I instantly started crying. "My arm." He got up and looked down.

My body was bruised and my arm dislocated, but I was fine. The car didn't even stop. It just kept going.

"Someone pushed me out of the way of a car that almost hit me. I dislocated it when we both landed on the sidewalk. I was nine."

"You didn't get surgery?" He asks.

"I couldn't."

"Why?"I look over at him and relax my facial expression so he wouldn't see my attempt to narrow my eyes.

"We didn't have the insurance needed to cover the cost and my dad was away." My dad got arrested two weeks before my ninth birthday. He beat a guy unconscious who catcalled me. Titus had told him about it. I wasn't going to tell him because I knew how he got. I was mad at Titus for the whole two weeks. On my birthday, I was forced to talk to him.

My dad got out the week after. The guy dropped the charges and said he couldn't remember who did it to him. With no witnesses or cameras, they had to let him go. I learned to keep things from my father. His temper controls him.

"You had eight years." He is rude.

"It's not a priority on my list."

He doesn't say anything for a while. We are almost to my apartment when he speaks again. "Why?"

"What?" I don't want to answer the question.

"Why aren't you standing up for yourself?" He asks. "Why aren't you revealing your identity?" I don't say anything. "Not again. Camera girl." He looks over for a second. "Faith."