The Street Made Me A Savage She Made Me A King

Chapter One.

Trying To Survive.

Paris.

Looking down at the long, dry, eroding concrete, watching as my torn, dirty sneakers stomped against it, every now and then, I could feel the dust and small rocks hitting my toes. I could hear little kids playing at a nearby park while teenage boys played basketball on what remained of the basketball court. An old, rusted fence was barely held together as parts of it surrounded the old park. I wiped beads of sweat from my chocolate skin as I looked up at the street sign that read Tyler Street. I was a few blocks away from my apartments on Lamar Street .

Part of me dreaded going home because it was the same shit, no food, dirty clothes, and overdue bills, piled on the dining room table. I was tired of struggling to scrape up change for groceries. I wanted to blame for being so damn irresponsible or blame my father for leaving us to start a better life. But the truth was it was no one's fault, it was just a test. God knew me and my mama deserved better, but he was teaching us to not take things for granted.

I stood a few feet from my apartment and could hear my mother yelling, so I shook my head knowingly. There she goes again, begging that man to do the right thing and be my dad.

"Shamar, she's your daughter too!" Her pleading made my temper rise.

I let myself in using the copper key I had hooked onto my Southern Saint High School lanyard. I walked into the small living room as the stranger I called my dad stood there with a nonchalant smile on his face. Meanwhile, my mother's five-four frame looked up at him with begging eyes. The sight disgusted me. He made it clear time and time again that he didn't give a fuck about me or my mama. I was mad because she kept making a damn fool out of herself by begging that bitch ass nigga for money.

We lived in a house with no damn food, and the lights would be off pretty soon. My mother was working a little nine to five at a dirty café. Their wages were horrible and don't get me started on their health code violations. But unfortunately, my mother was a high school dropout, so there weren't many job opportunities for her. Being sixteen and dumb in love with my father, who was a senior in high school when they met, took her down the wrong path. He was too good to be true, the perfect gentlemen, but he didn't want kids— with her, that is. Once she found out she was pregnant, all her worst nightmares came true. My grandma kicked her out, and my dad said to hell with us. She was homeless for half of the pregnancy, but eventually, my Aunty Nova took her in. You would think my mama learned her lesson; yet here she is again, ready to give him the only part of her that .

"London, I already told you, y'all are grown and capable of taking care of y'all damn selves," he spoke nonchalantly.

"You ass, I didn't lay up and get myself pregnant. Paris is seventeen years old, and you have never given her shit. You can't even make sure she eats tonight."

They continued to argue, not noticing I had stepped into the house. The blinds were the only form of light, and the air was so thick and hot I had to catch my breath. The windows were cracked, letting a little autumn breeze come through.