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until the place shut down so Jaquon wouldn’t see me with him. I knew if I tried to exit, Red Bone would see me and make a scene somehow without even trying. Maybe if I wished hard enough, Essence would follow me in here. But hell, if I could make wishes come true, then I would wish for my own damn money and wouldn’t need a man to give it to me.
    Most people would wish for peace on earth and some other crap I’m not interested in. Me, I would wish for wealth beyond my wildest dreams. I mean, wealth that could afford me a big house with servants and a pool in the backyard. I would want a closet full of designer clothes and another full of pricy shoes. I would have cars, jewelry, and a plane to fly me anywhere my heart desired. Forget peace on earth. Call me selfish. Now, if I had unlimited wishes, maybe, but from the cartoons and fairy tales, you usually only got three and I wasn’t about to waste them on a world that didn’t give a damn about me.
    Snapping back to the here and now, I wondered why Essence didn’t come after me. This way I could tell her the deal and she could get Jaquon out of here. But no, that was too easy and nothing ever seems to come easy for me.
    My entire life consisted of hard work. My mother and father were alcoholics who fought all the time over who drank the last can of beer or emptied the liquor bottle and put it back in the cabinet empty. I went without food sometimes due to their drinking. I went to school with dirty clothes and an uncombed head, which caused me to get picked on as a child. The only reason I got to eat lunch at school was because it was free due to our financial shortcomings and I was lucky then that Mama had sense enough to complete the needed forms. Funny how I never had food in the house, but my parents could find some change to scrap up to go pick up a pint of this and a can of that.
    When I hit my teen years, I had basically learned how to survive on my own. Family turned their nose up at me because I wasn’t worth the time or trouble. I was the nappy-headed child created by the alcoholic twosome. So that left me on my own. I stole. I schemed. I even robbed to keep my head afloat. That was, until I learned that men could take care of me if I took care of them. I used my body to get what I wanted. I had to do what I had to do to survive. By the age of twenty, I had lost my father. All that drinking caught up with him, and he died of cirrhosis of the liver. Even when the doctors told him he had to stop drinking or he would die, he let their words fall on deaf ears.
    I guess Mama was still living. I didn’t really know since I moved away from her and most of my family right after my dad passed away. His death only sent her spiraling further into the bottom of bottles. What reason did I have to stay, and I have never looked back. They didn’t give a damn about me then, so why should they care about me now? I needed them when I was child, but I was not worth receiving the love I knew I deserved. So here I stand. Yes, I have a good man at home, but our relationship could end whenever. So I had to keep the money coming in to be able to take care of myself. I loved Derrick, but I loved money more.

Zacariah
    Pacing the mushroom-colored tile floor, I noticed I was not alone. I was so deep in my thoughts that I didn’t notice a pair of legs behind the white stall door. Homegirl was either doing the number two or drunk as hell and couldn’t find her way out. As long as I had been standing here, I should have heard something, but there were no sounds coming from the other side of the door. Some toilet paper should have been pulled or some flushing should have been happening by now, but nothing.
    â€œHello, are you okay in there?” I asked.
    The chick didn’t say anything.
    â€œHello in there, are you okay?”
    The stall door clicked, but the door never opened. I wanted to push it open, but my mind led me to all of the horror