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and I felt like she was in a rush to leave my dad’s memory behind in that dusty apartment. That’s when my brother, Derrick, joined the army and never came back, leaving me and Hadiah here with my mother by ourselves.
    And no, my dad wasn’t the best, but he was mine, and up until he died he was always here when we came home; he always seemed interested in what we did and what we had to do. But, as I sat there with my sister in that lonely house, with tears sitting at the base of my eyes, I realized more than ever that all we have in this world is one another.
    I watched my sister eat because with tears dancing on my tongue, I couldn’t put a morsel of food in my mouth. “I’m going to bed,” I said to her.
    â€œMe too.” She cleared the table and then looked at the chore chart that hung on the pantry door. “Tonight is your night to wash the dishes.”
    â€œWell, it’ll have to wait until tomorrow because I’m tired.”
    I rose from my chair, practically ran into my room, and as soon as I closed the door tears slid down my face. I looked at the clock and counted the hours that had passed since me and Ameen fell out. I couldn’t fight it anymore. I needed to call Ameen at least once…yeah, that’s it…only once, and if he doesn’t answer then forget it. I definitely won’t be sweatin’ him.
    I picked up my phone and called him only to get his voice mail. I swallowed the ache in my chest and tried my best to make it go away.
    I changed into my silk pajamas, cut the radio on, and laid in my bed. Then it hit me, if I called Ameen one more time, he just might answer…so I did…and nothing. I hung up. A few seconds later I called again…. No answer. Forget it, I’m done. If he doesn’t call me then, oh well, his loss.
    I laid still for a few moments, and then I turned back over and looked at the phone. Okay…maybe just one more time and he’ll answer. One more time ended up being a thousand times, and the last time I called the phone didn’t even ring, his voice mail simply picked up. Which could only mean one thing; he’d turned his phone off.
    I felt so stupid.
    I returned to staring at the ceiling, and the last thing I remembered before I fell asleep was the radio playing slow jams and wondering how long it would take to put my life back together again.
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    â€œZsa-Zsa La-Shae Fields, get out that bed!” stunned me out of my sleep. Instantly I sat straight up. I felt like I’d been fighting a war instead of coming around from being asleep. My eyes felt heavy, and my heart was racing. I couldn’t see clearly, but I could swear I heard my mother’s voice.
    â€œAnd I mean get up right now!” Now I knew for sure that was my mother. I still couldn’t see clearly, but I could see well enough to read the electric red numbers on my alarm clock, which said 2:00 AM . I didn’t respond to my mother’s invasive voice because obviously, unless this was an extreme emergency, the chick was trippin’. I grabbed my pillow, snuggled under my blanket, and closed my eyes.
    â€œI know you heard me!” She snatched the covers off of me and then yanked the pillow.
    Now it was on. I turned over and sat up. “Are you for real, comin’ in here like this?!”
    â€œYou better shut your fresh mouth and get up to wash those dishes! It was your night to clean the kitchen and you just left it a mess!” She clinched her jaw. “I want you up and those dishes washed. Now!” She flicked the light on and I swore I went blind.
    I fell straight back on the bed and prayed out loud. “Lord Jesus, help me with this lady here because she is—”
    â€œExcuse me?”
    â€œGettin’ on my nerves!” I sat up. “Why would you wake me at this time of the morning?” I looked her over. She still had on her dark brown and tan corrections officer uniform.