Swiftly in motion I swiped the matte ruby red polish across my natural nails. It was a Friday evening, which usually consisted of me being alone in my large bedroom. No different than any other day of the week, just on Friday’s my nails get re-painted. Red has always been my favorite color, for some reason it just matched with my aura. With one last swipe across my pinky nail I was finally finished. The warm air from my mouth blew hard onto the two coats. I really disliked waiting for my nails to dry but I lucked up when the intro to Black Ink Crew appeared on the flat screen TV mounted on my wall. Caesar really thought he was something to look at. His attitude was distasteful, and he paraded around like he was invisible. A cocky man is just something I’m not attracted to. Then Teddy wannabe ass was always behind him like a puppet, instigating. And don’t get me started on Sky. I laughed as her loud voice filled my room with nonsense, as much as I hated some of the cast members, trash TV was my secret addiction.
A thunderous bang sounded from outside as a chill covered my skin. My eyes traveled to my slightly opened window, I sighed getting up using all of the energy I had left to shut it completely. It was fall season, so a few rain showers and cold wind was normal. I made my way back to my bed and plumped down on my soft comforter. My grandfather Samuel purchased it during his trip to Italy. He said it costed a good penny, which I could tell. Especially by how the material felt against my skin. Around my room was a variety of treasures brought back to me by my grandfather, he was a man that loved to gift. I had expensive Louis Vuitton suitcases in the corner that costed more than some cars, a Blue Nile diamond bracelet that I’d only worn once, and a few aesthetic paintings by one of my favorite artist–John Richard. All were just because gifts given to me by my dads-dad.
“Dolor?” A soft knock sounded on my bedroom door, I rolled my eyes. Angela, my mother stood on the other side, she questioned my presence again. I ignored her once more and placed my eyes back onto the TV. I disliked her with the deepest passion in me, her spirit bothered mine in a terrible way. My mother, was the most narcissistic, sneakiest, snootiest, BITCH I knew. And I’m not saying that because I’m her 18 year old daughter who’s transitioning into my adult hormones, it’s because it’s 100% true. Angela was of a different breed. She thought the world owed her more than the 110 acres of land that she lived on, the private driver, the designer clothes, and the rich Colombian husband. My father Raphael was godsend to her, if it wasn’t for him she would’ve never made it out of that one bedroom apartment on the south side of Atlanta eighteen years ago. She followed him around like a shadow too. My father and I could both be drowning, and guaranteed she would save him first. Guaranteed.
Another reason why we didn’t get along is because Angela hid my culture from me for years—my true self. As a little girl my parents told me I was full Colombian, so when anybody asked me, that’s what I She made it known almost daily that she hated being in the melanated skin that covered her. From the ugly failed attempts at bleaching her caramelized skin, to the countless procedures of plastic surgery she’s had, I still looked at her as a black woman. Maybe she wasn’t mentally, but in the United States census bureau, she was a black minority like me. With her annoying black ass. “Dolor?” I knew she wasn’t going anywhere until I responded, she was stubborn. A trait she passed down to me involuntarily. I pushed my feet into the mink black rug near my bed and hesitantly walked towards the door.
“Yeah?” Attitude filled my tongue as I scrunched up my face to look at her, my towel that was wrapped around my head holding my thick mane almost came undone. Angela was dressed in an all black sleeveless dress that clung to every curve on her skinny frame. The diamonds shined bright throughout the jewelry around her neck and arms. As always her hair was straightened as silky smooth as it could get. My mother used to be so pretty to me. Now her skin was lighter than it was years ago, her nose was smaller, cheeks sunken in and her eye color was permanently changed to dark blue.
“We are leaving, your father says goodbye” With her nose turned up, she looked me over dressed in my over-sized plain black tee. “Would it kill you to put on proper pajamas?”
“Too much clothing, I’m having company later. Easy access,” I smirked as her eyes widen. “Have a good trip,” I closed the door in her face, not hard, cause’ due to my Colombian background I was taught to respect mis padres, in some way at least. I pressed my back against the wall, listening for the click of her expensive heels to fade away down the hall.
“Me and papi was just talking about how mature you’ve gotten,” I scoffed. If you asked me, I’ve been mature my whole life. I had to take care of myself emotionally, mentally, and physically while my parents showered me materialistically. Here I was, a new high school graduate. One of the biggest accomplishments a teenager could achieve, and my parents were going away on another trip. Didn’t bother asking me if I wanted to join, no, instead I was given $10,000 and a cat. I hated cats. “Make sure you feed this cat,” The same annoyed tone that was in her voice matched my energy. If she hated the cat, why in the hell would she think I would like it? I’ve never had a pet. Never asked for one. Ever. Those expensive heels walked away . I rushed to grab the remote and turned down the TV, chaos was going on and it was too loud. Sky pulled off her wig again as usual and began spinning it around in the air yelling ‘I don’t care’. I shook my head at the dramatics. In the back of my head, I wished I was a reality TV star. Just to see how I would act. I’d probably be the lame one that all the fans vote to be dropped from the next season. I’ve been told that I had a dry personality at times.
Don’t be fooled though, I also had a wild side. I grew up privileged but I hung out in the rough parts of Atlanta as much as I could. I didn’t want to be like my mother and forget where I’m from. I wanted to make sure I knew the rawness of my culture. Once I was old enough to get my own driver, I had Roland take me all around Atlanta. I hung out after school at the city parks and pools. My parents thought I was at piano lessons, I couldn’t tell you the proper terms for piano keys if I tried. I dated hood guys too, only one I knew for sure was a drug dealer, he was cool though. They all thought I lived around the way, majority of my friends did too. It was a secret I kept for years. It was all lovely until Angela decided to track my phone after a few ignored calls on her birthday, her and papi rolled up on me sitting in the lap of my boyfriend Deonte’. Deonte’ was two years older than me, he had a grill that was placed over his nice set of teeth, chocolate skin that looked and felt so smooth, and he had a nice body. I could barely understand what he said sometimes, but I liked being in his strong arms. I felt protected. Then it all ended five month ago, Roland was fired and threatened with a lawsuit. I wasn’t able to get a new driver until I moved out on my own. If Angela didn’t like me before then, she despised me deeply after that. The entire way home she ranted about how she provided a better life for me so I wouldn’t have to grow up like ‘them’, and by ‘them’ I knew she was talking about more than just their lifestyle.
“Hello?” I answered my phone dryly.
“Hey Pain!” My mother thought she was slick naming me Dolor as if I wasn’t going to look up it’s meaning as I got older. Dolor is Spanish for pain. Angela decided out of all names, that she would name her only daughter pain. My father said as she was in labor, she asked him how to pronounce pain in Spanish. And it wasn’t until they filled out the birth certificate that he saw what she’d wrote next to baby’s name. So I did her a favor and made sure that everyone used the English version of it, which drove her absolute insane. “Are coming to Mike’s graduation party? If so you can ride with me and Connor,” Hell no I wasn’t going to Mike’s party. Last time I attended a party at Mike’s house I was damn near sexually assaulted by Connor and his friends.
“No, I’m chilling tonight,” I unraveled the towel wrapped around my head, my very thick, long, and curly hair dropped down onto my back and shoulders.
“Come on whyyy,” she dragged.
“Cause’ I don’t want to go. Last time y’all b-,” I stopped myself from saying bitches. “Ahem, last time you guys left me in the bathroom hoovering over the toilet throwing up.” Which is when Connor followed by his ugly friends came up behind me and dry rubbed their dicks on my ass. I was too drunk to realize, until the next day when it all came back to me. I told Deonte’ about it and he planned to shoot them all.
“Booo boring! Okay bye I’ll send pics,” And all of them will be deleted.
“Have fun!” I hung up and quickly focused my attention back to my nails. “Shit!” I messed up the polish on my thumb finger.