The instant she touched me, I pulled my hand free.
“Darlin’ child,” she whispered, the words broken, like shewas going to cry.
“I need some alone time,” I whispered back.
“Okay, baby, then you go into your room and I’ll stay righthere so if you find you’re notfeelin’ the alone, I’mreal close so you don’tgottabe.”
“Thank you but by alone, honey, I meanalone.”
She scooted closer in her crouch and her voice dipped lowand even sweeter.
“Hon, I know you think you know what you want right now butyou don’t.You need me here.And I’mgonnastay here,Daisy.You need to be alone, I’ll give you that how I can.Youwannabe in here, I’ll go to the kitchen.Youwannalie down in your room, I’ll be out here.But I’m notleaving.”
The tears hit my eyes and they stung.
I looked to the window, and to control the tears, my tonewas ugly when I rapped out, “Do whatever youwannado.”
“Daisy?”
“What?”I snapped.
“I could turn back time, I would, baby.”
She said that like shereallymeant it.
I looked back to her and hissed, “That makes two of us.”
She bit her lip, wet trembling against her bottom lashes,and nodded.
I again looked out the window.
I felt her presence leave me but it didn’t leave myapartment.
And I stared out the window knowing I was done.
My daddy beat me.Then he left us with just what he gave uswhen he was with us.Nothing.My momma gave not one shit about me.Every manI’d had in my life (outside Smithie, and long ago, a man I barely remembered,just his shoulders, his eyes, and his name, Stretch), had treated me liketrash.
And I was finally getting it.
Finally.
They treated me like trash because that was what I was.
The kind of girl some loser you once gave a lap dance to whowas ejected because the motherfucker was way too fucking handsy jumps you in aparking lot, lands his fist in your face until you can’t think straight, andviolates you on asphalt.
I didn’t move from that chair not because it wascomfortable.
I didn’t because it hurt too much to move and I’d alreadylearned that there was nothing, sitting or lying down, that felt good on myscraped-raw back and ass.
Yeah.
That’s where trash belonged.
Thrown to the asphalt just like what it meant.
Nothing.
Miss Annamae had been wrong.
