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"Are you going to take me to my car or not?"

"I don't feel right about this. The look in your eye is making me feel some type of way." We had yet to leave the parking lot of the restaurant and I was getting annoyed.

"I'm asking you to take me back to my car and you can't do that?"

"What are you going to do? What did Raymond say?"

"Why does it matter?"

"Why wouldn't it matter? I care about you and I—"

Instead of listening to her, I opened the door and got out the car. I had one thing on my mind and sitting in this car going back and forth with Briana wasn't it.

"You're not thinking clearly and I'm supposed to just let you do whatever you want!" She yelled after me.

"Asha!" I continued walking.

"This shit is childish."

"Briana, I'm not trying to argue with you. Just take me back to my car. That's all I'm asking."

"Okay, okay. I will, just stop walking away from me." I turned around and stormed back to her. I gave people dirty looks as they watched me. I got back in the car and she did the same. She pulled off soon after.

"Just tell me what your dad said on the phone that got you so upset."

"It wasn't necessarily what he said," I mumbled.

"Then what was it?"

"I just need to go get back what was taken from me," was all I said.

"I still don't know what that means. Talk to me Asha."

"Raymond wrote me letters from jail. He had them sent to the house, but I never got a single one. I didn't even know about them until today. That sneaky heffa hid them from me. She took them. I just know she did, so I'm getting them back."

"Your mom?"

"Yes," I said.

"Asha—"

"I don't wanna hear it, I'm getting them today and I'd appreciate it if we went back to your place so I could get my car."

"I'll go with you."

"No," I said.

"Why not? I can help—"

"Every time I think I'm done with Kennedy and my mom, they somehow find a way back into my life and I hate it. I'm annoyed, I'm angry, and I'm done talking." I sat quietly for the rest of the ride. I was so deep in thought that I didn't realize that we weren't heading back to her place until the last minute. It wasn't until we turned down a familiar street that I got heated and opened the door. Briana slammed on the brakes and I took off my seatbelt, grabbing my purse.

"Are you crazy!"

"I guess you didn't hear a word I said."

"You are out of your damn mind! What if your mom doesn't have them? What if she threw them away a long time ago? What if there were no letters to begin with, then what? That look in your eye is only going to get you in trouble."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"They're just letters!"

"No they're not! They are proof that he tried, that my father tried to be there for me. But, you wouldn't understand. You grew up with two loving parents in one household. Those letters would mean more to me than anything, and maybe I could finally let go of all this hate that's been festering inside of me since I was a kid."

"Asha," she grabbed my hands. "I do understand. I just don't want you to go and confront her like this. You aren't thinking clearly."

"You have no idea what I'm thinking."

"Then tell me." I pulled my hands away and took a seat on the pavement. Briana was so good at being a friend that it was almost annoying. I didn't want to lash out at her because she was only doing her job, so I had no choice but to talk to her. She tried grabbing my hands again, but I wrapped my arms around myself before she could.

"It's not like I was going to take a knife and stab her in the fucking chest," I mumbled.

"I'm not saying you were. I just know how much she infuriates you, and anger only makes people do stupid things," she said.

I took a deep breath and hugged myself tighter. "I won't be able to sleep tonight. I need to know what she did with those letters. Fuck, and if she destroyed them I...I—"

"I know," was all Briana could say. I was tried of trying to explain myself. This feeling inside of me, yes it felt like I was about to explode, but I knew how to control my emotions around her. I've done it all my life. Today is no different. I just want my mom to know that I'm not putting up with her shit anymore. She will tell me what happened to those letters one way or another.

After many minutes of complete silence, Briana spoke up again.

"I texted Penny earlier. I don't want her to worry any more than she already is. She's probably going crazy right now wondering where we're at." I nodded and stood up. I started walking in the direction of Penny's apartment building. We were only a block up the street.

"Okay, I'll meet you. Please just go straight there," Briana said.

I nodded and continued walking as Briana drove ahead of me. When I arrived, her and Penny were already outside waiting for me. I stopped when I saw a certain someone getting out of their car. I frowned. They did not just get him involved.

"What the fuck Penny," I said annoyed.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know how to take Briana's message. I thought you were in trouble."

"Don't be mad at her," Briana said getting defensive.

"I'm not mad, but I'm annoyed at both of you. Briana, I wish you would have just taken me to my car like I asked." See this is why I drive my own shit everywhere and rarely sit in anyone's passenger seat. Now I'm stranded, and I feel like I'm being a burden because now they think I'm gonna do something stupid when all I want is to know what happened to those damn letters. The fuck. Is that so much to ask.

"Get in the car," he said.

"Meech—"

"I'm not about to repeat myself."

I stormed over to his car and got in. He said something to Penny before getting in the car. I ignored him as he drove, shifting constantly in the seat. He made a stop at the liquor store and got out the car taking his keys and locking the door like I was a child. I rolled my eyes and slumped further down into the seat. He soon came back with a big bag full of rello wraps, beers, hard liquor, and candy. He took the bag from me and closed it.

"Nosy ass," his deep voice practically rumbled, catching me off guard.

"What's the occasion?" I asked but he said nothing in response.

"Where are you taking me?" Still no answer. I reached for my bag that was on the floor between my feet. Meech put an address into his phone, but I couldn't see it. His gps synced with his car and a road map popped up on the display screen. After awhile, I finally understood where we were headed.

When we pulled up at my old house, I jumped out the car so fast. "Asha, don't make me regret this," he said getting my attention. I nodded and closed the door.

I didn't see a car in the driveway, but I banged on the front door anyway. I looked under the pot on the porch, but the key wasn't there. I very much intended on breaking a window if I had to, but the door was viciously yanked open instead. My breath caught in my throat as I stared at my so called mother—the same woman that did nothing but ridicule me every chance she got. She looked the same, but there was something off and I could feel it. Damn, I could see it. She was also in sweats and a stained t-shirt. She never wore sweats.

She looked me up and down, sneering at my appearance. I shoved past her and into the house. This once nice house was now a mess. She ain't have me to clean up after her anymore.

"You came back to be my personal bitch," she laughed.

"Where's your car? Did the bank finally repo it?"

"Bitch you ain't funny," she sneered at me.

"I never said I was." I walked further into the house looking at all the shit—clothes everywhere, cigarette buds, beer, and even pills. Something must've happened to her in these last five years because shit took a complete 180, or is it a 360.

I turned to her, taking a better look at her. Her eyes were sunken in, she was a lot thinner than she was the last time I saw her, lips cracked and everything. Is this what I looked like at one point? Like mother like daughter, I guess.

"You on drugs again?" I scoffed. "I thought you stopped that when we moved to this house." By the look of surprise on her face, she didn't know that I knew that she used to use. I definitely peeped a lot of stuff when I was younger.

"Get out." I rolled my eyes.

"Where are the letters?" Her face scrunched up before she started laughing hysterically.

"Child, be more specific."

"You know, the ones my father sent me."

"Who? Ray!? That man ain't give a fuck about you. He didn't even want to take care of you so why in the hell would he go out of his way to send you letters."

"Where are they? I could bet my life that you still have them." I know she has them, and I bet she kept them all these years out of spite.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said.

Fed up, I started searching. I started in the living room, kicking around bottles and dirty plates. I checked the little coffee table that had multiple drawers. I found nothing.

"The streets talk. You think just because you moved out of here that you're better than everyone. Where you stay at now, maybe I'll come visit you? You got on some nice clothes too. You got a nice job as well? Or are you just selling pussy?" I scrunched my face up, but I ignored her.

Thinking that the letters had to all be in one place and that there were probably a lot of them, I went to the hallway coat closet. I pulled it open. It was also a mess. I went through the coats and bags of clothes and shoes that were in there. Nothing.

"You won't find them." She stood by the door smoking a cigarette with a smug look on her face. I ignored her and kept looking. I went into the kitchen knowing that that was where she used to open all the mail. I went through everything. She had migrated just outside the kitchen, leaning against the wall watching me. I tore the kitchen a part even more. I looked on top of the fridge, in the cabinets above the stove and around the kitchen, under the sink, and even under the stove where the broiler was. Still nothing. If they're not in the kitchen then they must be somewhere upstairs. I walked around the counter and was about to exit the kitchen when something told me to stop. I did just that.

I looked to my right and saw a door, the pantry door to be exact. I looked to my mom, and her smile had vanished. I yanked the pantry door open. It was more like a tiny walk-in closet stacked with shelves, but the shelves were right in front of me and they barely held any food. I looked to the ground, and just my luck, there was a black garbage bag on the floor. I pulled it out and tore the bag open. Letters spilled out of it. I fucking knew it! I kneeled on the ground, going through the bag. There had to be over a hundred of them and from what I could tell, they were all addressed to ME.

All of the letters were in envelopes and all of them were opened. A lot of them were also ruined, and of course, none of them had money in them. I'm not sure when he started sending them, but I remember my dad saying he stopped when I turned eighteen. That just shows how much of a sneaky and deceitful woman she is.

"Why did you hide these from me," I broke down.

"I don't have to explain anything to you."

"Yes you do. You need to explain to me why you went through all of these letters. And you even ruined them. Why?"

"I am your mother. I don't have to answer to—"

"You are NOT my mother! You completely lost that right. I would have died for your validation at one point, even when you treated me like shit. You mean nothing to me now."

"And you think that he has any right to be your father? I was there. He wasn't."

"You did absolutely nothing for me. You hated me. At least he—"

"He what? All he did was leave," she spat. I shook my head no over and over.

"Wake up, he left!"

"No, he was in jail."

"He still left! Even before he went to jail. You was like what, five or six? He left! And you a dumb bitch if you think that nigga even for a second gave a fuck about you. He had his own family. He ain't care about his mistress or his bastard child."

Ouch, that hurt.

"You're wrong," I whispered brokenly.

"Get out my house."

"If he ain't care then what are these," I said grabbing a handful of letters. I pulled one out, one of the ones that was still intact, and I started reading.

"Hey Asha,

How are you these days? I'm sorry I can't be there for you, but I hope you are doing okay. Today has been a slow day for me. This prison food got me losing weight already. Are you eating well? Maybe we can go out to eat when I get out. I'll take you to one of those fancy steak houses or something. I—"

"He felt sorry for you," she said bitterly.

"No, LISTEN!" I wiped my face with the back of my hand, trying to get rid of the tears that were blurring my vision. I continued reading.

"I hope you are getting these letters. I got connections with a few people on the outside, and I was able to find your address even after y'all moved. I sound like a broken record since all of my letters sound the same. I wish you would write back so that I knew if you were receiving them or not. Anyway, I can't wait to see you. You'll be all grown up when I get released. Stay healthy. I love you Asha.

-dad."

"Unlike you, he cared," I grabbed my chest trying to control my breathing.

"Oh please," she rolled her eyes.

"At least he tried, he tried! That was all I ever wanted and you took that away from me. You took everything away from me—my childhood, my happiness, my father. You sucked the life out of me, and you don't even fucking care. Why don't you care!?"

"Care? Child, I raised you. I put a roof over your head and put you in school. You lucky you had that," she rolled her eyes. I just stared at her. She did the absolute bare minimum, meanwhile, Kennedy got the best of everything. I squeezed my chest harder, feeling overwhelmed.

"I did more than he ever did, with those corny ass letters. You ain't miss nothing." I shook my head again. These letters mean more to me than the roof she put over my head and most of them fucked up schools she sent me to.

"These," I said raising up a letter. "All of them were addressed to ME. Every single letter has my name on it. Why did you keep them from me?" I stood up and got in her face. For once, she grew silent—probably trying to think of some excuse. When she didn't answer fast enough, I spoke up for her.

"Oh, I know why. I'll tell you. It's because you were and still are jealous of me. You slept with a married man and he left you. You ended up pregnant with me thinking that somehow I would make him stay. It didn't work, so you resented me. He might've never been there, but you ran him away. I just know that you're the reason why he left. You ran everyone away including Kennedy's dad. I don't even know any of my family. I bet you ran them away too. I'm not sure what generational trauma you went through, but it stops here. I will never be anything like you. I will raise my—"

I stopped abruptly and gathered my thoughts. It was then that I realized that she would never know Royce, nor will she ever get the chance to even lay eyes on my child. I will not allow her to take shit else from me, her nor Kennedy. I took a deep breath.

"You're bitter, you're alone, and you're pathetic." I could barely get the last word out before I felt the palm of her hand connect with my face, triggering more tears in the process.

I think that was the first time she has ever put her hands on me—she never had to before. I always made sure I said and did everything right. She never had to put her hands on me because I never gave her a reason to until now. I turned my face back to her and spit all up in hers. She slapped me again, but with much more force this time. Luckily, she didn't draw blood.

"Get out my house." I stood there stunned for a second before my feet started moving. I went back to the letters and stuffed them back into the garbage bag as fast as I could.

"Get out!" She stormed up to me with her fists balled.

"I dare you to put your hands on me again," I paused for a moment, staring up at her. If she puts her hands on me again, I won't just stand there and take it.

"Get the fuck out," she seethed. I lifted the bag and stormed out of the kitchen, and out of the house. She just kept running her mouth. I said all I had to say though, she just wants the last word because I finally got under her skin.

"I gave you everything, you ungrateful ass bitch. But you go behind my back and speak to that nigga, allowing him to lie on me."

"The only one telling lies is you," I said.

"What did you say?!" I ignored her and made my way to Meech's car. He stayed in the car behind his heavily tinted windows. He had already told me that this was my business and that he wouldn't interfere unless he had to.

"Who in the car? Is this the car you selling pussy out of?" She laughed. I said nothing in response. Like I said, I already said everything I had to say to her. Now, she just wants to run her mouth.

"Even I can tell this ain't your car. You can try to 'come up' all you want, but you will never be anything more than a weak fat ass hoe." I tried my best to not listen to her even though her words cut deep. She knew how to play on my insecurities. Shit, she created those insecurities.

"You hear me! No man will ever want you. You call me pathetic but you're weak, and you always will be." Her insults got louder the more I ignored her.

I placed the letters in the back seat. I desperately wanted to confront her again, but I stopped myself. I will not continue to stoop to her level. I gave her one last look as she stood at the end of the driveway. I knew she could see how much I was hurting, but she just didn't care. I let out a sob. Like wow, she really just didn't care at all. I opened the door and quickly got in.

"Where you going?!" She yelled after me. I slammed the door shut.

"Can you drive...please," my words came out shaky and almost inaudible. I put my head down and avoided eye contact. Meech said nothing and drove off right as she made it to the car. Hopefully, I was done with her.

.....

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