The Youngest Garza

chapter 15

Chris’s point of view

Sleep has always been a luxury to me. As I can remember from a young age, my usual sleep intake lasted for five to six hours and decreased as I grew older.

Now I usually get three and if I’m lucky four hours of sleep and not because my job is time consuming...I mean it is but even the precinct knows that we need our sleep so we can be the best crime fighters the next day.

No, the problem is my body. It has turned into a personal alarm. It knows when I need to wake up which is at 4AM in the fucken morning. Which is not a bad thing, I mean yeah sure I’ll have more time to exercise and eat if I feel like eating, but why can’t it automatically know the right time for me to sleep? I can lay in bed for hours just waiting for sleep to come but Hapana (No), it will turn into a sassy bitch and make me watch my ceiling for a long while before having an effect on me.

This entire week has been strenuous, stressful and a rollercoaster of emotions. With the two on going cases, where by Michael’s is the most stressful one, sleep has turned into an occasional thing for me.

Speaking of the Andrew’s case, I haven’t heard from Elizabeth in the past three days, which, added to my stressful working hours has just made me mad.

I’m cranky, grumpy and downright moody, which I’m guessing is really obvious judging by how everyone at the precinct has stayed away from me for the past three days. I thought it was because Linda’s husband has been frequently visiting the precinct for the past few days, nobody has liked that guy since he was our deputy chief of police before his wife Linda took over which I don’t know why and honestly I don’t care.

He was always an asshole since I’ve been working for the LAPD. He’d try to put me down when I was a rookie, when I decided to take the detective test two years later and when I actually passed the test. So basically this guy has never liked me, but the feeling if fucken mutual. Lami ya ujinga (ridiculous bitch).

I guess no one would like their wife hitting on another person, but that isn’t my fault, it’s her’s  and probably his but I don’t want to dwell on that.

Back to my sleep, which I doubt I’ll be getting anymore of due to the consistent knock on my fucken door.

In anger, I hastily get up from the bed and stomp my way downstairs and to the door.

“Kwa umakini watu, je! Huwezi kubisha kama ...Mom!” (Seriously people, You can’t knock like ) I exclaim loudly before I stop halfway through my rant “what are you doing here?” I ask.

“Kweli Chris, vaa nguo, je!” (Really Chris, put some clothes on will you”  mom says with a disapproving tone, causing me look down at myself and realize how I’m barely dressed in my sports bra and black briefs.

I quickly cover my junk area and run upstairs just as I hear Dad’s and Emmanuel’s voices.

Rummaging through my closet, I decide to go with casual clothing such as a black long sleeved Polo neck and some grey joggers before joining my family in the living room.

“There, now we can have a decent conversation” mom says, her brown almost black eyes sparkling in the dimes lights of the living room. Her brunette shoulder length hair pulled back into a tight high pony tail. Her short stature clad in a black long sleeved tight dress paired with her black pumps.

“It’s not anything you haven’t already seen mom” Emmanuel says as he plumps himself on the couch. His choice of outfit being similar to mine, the only difference being how his polo neck is white and his joggers are black, complimenting his dark chocolate skin and brown-black eyes. His small button nose, accompanied by the nose ring sitting perfectly. His tall and slightly muscular stature lazily sitting on the couch and his brown Nike air force 1’s situated on my new coffee table almost makes Me lose my mind.