HE LOVED ME IN THE DARK

ALL I NEED IN THIS LIFE OF SIN...IS ME AND MY COUSIN

HELLO BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE,

I WANT TO TAKE THE TIME OUT TO DEDICATE THIS CHAPTER TO MY VERY BEST LIFE LONG FRIEND, TAMARON. SHE IS MY COUSIN AND MY SISTER. EVEN THOUGH WE HAVEN'T SPOKEN OR SEEN EACH OTHER IN YEARS, WE STILL SHARE ALOT OF HURT, PAIN, ABUSE, AND SECRETS. SHE WAS MY TRUE RIDE-OR-DIE, LIVING ON THE STREETS TOGETHER, DOING WHATEVER WE COULD TO PROTECT EACH OTHER. SHE KNEW MORE ABOUT ME THAN EVEN MY SISTERS. I LOVE YOU CUZ, YOU WERE THERE FOR ME WHEN NO ONE ELSE WAS, AND EVEN THOUGH I KNOW SHE WILL NEVER READ MY BOOK, I JUST WANT EVERYONE TO KNOW WHAT SHE MEANT TO ME.

        I had a best friend all of my life, Tamaron, well actually she was my cousin. I believe we became so close because there wasn't anyone in our family who was in our age group. Tamaron was the oldest of all the cousins, and and I was somewhere in between, so we constantly hung our together.

        Her mother was my Auntie Peaches. She was the bomb, and My Angel. Every time I got into trouble, she would always be there to save me. I stayed at my auntie house every weekend and during school breaks, she didn't mind at all, because we loved each other that much.

        Auntie Peaches was strict, but was also my best friend. I loved her more than my own mother. She was known all over for her famous soul food cooking. She used to sell dinners out of her house, which was a plate full of soul food, or on every holiday everyone would pile up at her house and grubbed til we burst.

        Auntie Peaches was never stingy. She didn't have a lot of money, but whatever she had, she would give her last. She kept us in church every Sunday, and she was always there for me, prying, or feeding me all the time, or just smply hugging and kissing me.

        Tamaron used to say how mean everyone in her house was to her. I understood her pain, because no matter how nice everyone was when they were outside of the home, they always acted differently when we were at home alone. Eventually Tamaron was running away from home, and so was I. It got so bad that, we would call each other, and plan to run away together, and meet up with each other. Every time she would leave, I would leave, or every time I left home, she would run away. We felt like we only had each other. We would sleep in bus stops together, outside the gas stations at the pumps, we even slept at our schools, or the nearest parks while everyone else was sleeping in their homes. Soon after, grown men would pull up along side of us while we were walking down the street. I guess it was because my cousin had over sized breasts, and always dressed provocative. I saw how much attention she used to get , and she told me I needed to stop dressing like a little boy,and maybe I would get some attention as well. So most of the time, it would be guys always trying to pick her up, but she always refused to leave me on the streets by myself.

        So one time whnen we ran away together, I stole some of Kanitha's "cute" clothes. She was a little smaller than me so her clothes were very form fitting on me, and bootylicious.

        I was thirteen, and Tamaron was seventeen. I don't know about her, but by then I became addicted to attention, and if men wanted sex from me, I gave it willingly. Everyhere we went, we would get attention, and soon we started car hopping. Every car that stopped, asked if we needed a ride, we would say yes, and hop right on in, with no regard for our safety or our life, it became normal for us. Even though we were on the streets, and no longer at home in an unstable environment, it still seemed safer, because out there, we had control over our mind and our body. If we didn't want to have sex with anyone, we chose not to. 

        After all the bad things that happened to me at home, I felt like I could never leave, I felt forever trapped, but living on my own terms, if I didn't like a situation that I was in, I could escape any time I wanted. I always heard people say how unsafe it was, or how I would end up raped, beaten, or killed if I kept running the streets, and my response would be, "I was raped and beaten at home all of my life, now I'm just waiting for someone to kill me so I can finally be happy." It seemed like I was purposely doing destructive things, so that I would die, but I always woke up the next day, no matter how much trouble I got into the night before.

        Eventually, my cousin and I would split up, and go our separate ways, or we would run away at the same time, but wouldn't be able to find each other, so I would either go to one of our hiding spots, or do my own thing.

        Once I started doing my own thing, I started running into all kinds or people. Drug dealers, strippers, prostitutes, gang bangers, pimps, and a few others, became my friends.

        My dad always had friends in the hood, who had drug houses. For a long period of time, my dad used to work for a few. He stayed in the trap house all night, selling weed and crack. Alot of the times my dad would make me go to the trao house with him, because he didn't trust me at home anymore, because I would always leave. What he didn't know at the time was, his baby girl became addicted to the streets. I always wanted to be out, hanging, partying, and being on my own. I also started to take care of myself. Most of the women I met along the way, gave me tips on how to look, and also tips on how to get money. So, yeah, I was hooked.

        I learned alot from watching my dad sell drugs, I just didn't know that I would end up doing it, the opportunity just kind of fell in my lap, and I took it. One day, I was walking down the street late at night, when a guy pulled up on me in a money green Bens. I was already fasinated with car, so I listened to what he had to say. He was FINEEE! Plus the diamonds that he was wearing was shining at night, so I had to see what he was about.

        I got in his car, and we went for a ride. He told me his name was Pops. He just came out and asked me, " I need you to go hold down one of my traps for me, do you think you can handle it, are you down? I didn't know what he was talking about until we pulled up to our destination.

        He took me to this bar in Southwest Detroit, right on Livernois and Tireman. There was a small apartment upstairs from the bar,but you couldn't tell until you walked around back, it was right across the street from a truck stop. That is where I was going to work, with a couple. I thought they were a normal, married couple, come to find out they were living there they were trustworthy crackheads that worked for Pops. He said he would be paying me $100 a day, since it was a ten dollar crack spot.

        They had a hole put into the door, so if you were outside, you couldn't tell who was serving you, we couldn't see who was buying either,nor did we care, all we needed to see was the money, and they saw the crack pack, they grabbed it and took off running. I used to have women come to the trap all the time, with no money. Their favorite line was, "I'm broke baby girl, let me lick on you instead." I was still a kid, so I really didn't know what they meant, I've never experienced, or heard of girl on girl yet. 

        I thought I was the shit, living on my own, making my own money, Pops was buying me whatever I wanted and needed, and he kept a roof over my head, and to top it all off, Pops never tried to have sex with me. He was more like a big brother, who said he'd rather help me by giving me a job, instead of seeing me on the streets, fucking for free.

        For a while, the couple who's house I was trapping out of, kept trying to get me to smoke crack with them,but I was scared because of how fucked up they looked after smoking, I never understood why they wanted to look like dirty zombies, I felt like I was too fresh for that, plus Pops threatened me everyday, that if he found out I ever did anything more with crack, other than sell it, he would cut me off, but not before he kicked my ass. He didn't have to worry about me, people tried to get me to smoke weed before, and I was too scared, like I said we were sheltered kids, my parents didn't explain to us the severe effects of drugs either,  even though my dad sold crack. I thought it would kill me, so I passed on it every time.

        Every time I thought things were getting better, it was always some bullshit around the corner. Especially with the drugs, trap houses, and fast money, there was someone always watching, lurking, ready to make a move.

STAY TUNED....

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