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Broken City Lights

Chapter 1: No more loneliness
“Pussy is power. You hold that power. Remember that.”
Those were the very last words my mother had shared with me before taking off with her rich, wine and dine, trifling ass pimp, leaving me all alone with nothing but my worthless tears. Sharon, which was her name, was a woman who didn’t know how to love and didn’t want to learn which is why sometimes I feel like I should have never been brought into this world. I grew up in the valley most of my life but spent most of my time looking for my mother in downtown since she was hoein’ for “upper” clientele . I felt like I was this neglected item that was always being forgotten whenever I was with her. She was more concerned with where she was going to get her next hit from and how she was going to work to get it.
Stuck in a one bedroom and one bath apartment, I placed myself in the middle of what use to be “our” living-room. I looked out into the window, watching her chuck her deuces up to the other elite hood rats, embracing one another. Probably exchanging hoe powers at the same time. Then i glanced over to see her fat, black and ugly pimp shaking hands with the other pimps. I couldn’t believe they were really having some type of going away party for these two. Her infamous pimp, Lo’ Dirty, had came up on some mad crazy cash.
 Not only is he known for having the “best of the best” pussy for sale, they also granted him with another nickname, Sticky Fingers. Well for two reasons but I’m only aware of one of them which is because he was always stealing. No one ever caught him. Only those living in our neighborhood knew his fingers were “Sticky.”
“I can’t believe she up and left me,” I told myself. Still trying to wrap it around my head. Sixteen years old and here I was thinking about “grown-up” type shit. What was I going to do with myself? How are these bills going to get paid? Am I going to have to call nana to help? Or even worst...may I have to finally look for my father? Shit, why is this happening now?
See, I never knew who my father was and my mother wanted to keep it that way. I never understood why but my grandmother dropped a few hints to me in the past.
My mother had a dark mocha complexion with piercing jaguar eyes that could knock these niggas’ knees out of place along with her long, definitely real, ethiopian hair  and my grandmother was a shade lighter than her with light brown hazel eyes. Her hair was turning completely platinum but she stood out with no aging in sight.
 My grandmother, Jane, was more of a mother to me than my own. It seemed to be that way throughout my hood. Mamas leaving their babies with they mamas just to go act and feel young again. Why even have children if that’s what you’re going to do?
All I could really thank her for was my reputation. Granted my mama was selling her soon to be worn out pussy, I was rocking the latest gear, shit that hadn’t even dropped yet. Boys from around the block was on me tough, thinking I was gonna give up my goods and do what these other chicken heads was into. And the chicks stayed hatin’ on me for days on end. They wasn’t bold enough to step up though I knew that fo’ sure.
For the first time I sat still, lying my entire life right there on my hardwood floor. I had a mother who was an ultimate druggie as well as a prostitute and a father who was feared by many even with him being behind steel bars. How could have  God placed me in a family like this? What did I do to deserve this punishment?
Although I loved both of my parents, I knew that I would end up being a regular ass statistic. I felt a tear drop on my lush pink tube top and I shook off the emotion that I felt coming over me. I didn’t want to feel. If I allowed any emotion, I would become vulnerable and that was the last thing I ever wanted. For someone to feel that they had power over me, hell no.
BANG! BANG!
“Girl open up this door before I knock it down!”
Only person I knew that would knock just two times and then work up an attitude when no one rushed to the door was Kisha. This bitch always knocking on people’s doors like she the damn S.W.A.T!
Before I could even get the door all the way open, she zoomed through like a bat out of hell.
“So, I heard ya mama left you by yourself...how you holding on?”
“She just left less than an hour ago. I guess news travels quickly around here still.” With her arms folded and rolling eyes she smacked her lips. That was her way of letting me know that I was right.
“Lo’Dirty Sticks is out there show boatin’ for the hood. All I want to know is how the hell did he come up on some mad dough?”
“It honestly can’t be from that wack kitty he got stocked on his shelves.” She let a smirk grow on her face as she turned to see my reaction. I laughed just a little but I was trapped in my thoughts.
“Look mamas, you ain’t alone in this. We’ve been girls since our titty milk sippin’ days, I got chu!” Kish threw her arms open just how these niggas do when they get hyped about they boys comin’ through with something real good.
I remember when Lo Dirty found out that my mama was fucking around with a big timer from the east coast that happened to be visiting over here in Cali. She went missing for three weeks. As usual I had to look for her day and night, nowhere to be found. Dirty ass made is way over to our place, tried to shake me up because his dumbass couldn’t keep tabs on his own ho. Kisha’s brother, Dip, heard all the noise and chaos and rushed over with this squad. They stepped to Dirty like he was no threat and made him leave. That very same night, Dip left to the hardware store and return with some weird contraption he called a “N.S.L.” A Nigga Security Lock to be exact. He installed it and even stayed over to make sure I was all good.
So when Kish says she got me, I believe because her family always makes sure I’m good. As these memories made their way back into my mind, I felt more at ease and a little bit of peace came over me.
“You know if you want…” Kish slowly let her words come out one by one because she knew that I knew her very well. I still had that odd lock attached to the front door so I wasn’t worried about sleeping all alone in this place. Hell, she was acting like I had never been all by myself before.
I embraced her with a nice, long and genuine hug, “Just bring me some of your mama’s jambalaya, that’ll make me feel just fine.”




For the first time in awhile I actually got the chance to sleep through the night. No late night searching for my mother. No heavy and endless banging on the door from Lo Dirty and most of all, peace of mind. It was the beginning of the first week of Summer. No worries about having to go to school. No rushing noise of hearing kids running down the hall way with their mothers trailing behind them. I was loving it.
I thought it’d be nice to clean the apartment up a bit and start getting use to having the place to myself.
RING! RING!
I ran over to the phone because in some way, the little girl inside wanted it to be her mother, calling to tell her that she made a mistake and would be returning home to her. That she would turn her life around and finally choose her daughter instead of the streets. But the somewhat of the grown-up in me wanted to yell “Fuck you and the horse you rode out of hell on!” Raging with my emotions, I answered the phone with an aggressive “Who’s this?!”
“That’s not the proper way to answer the phone Maya. Now I KNOW I taught you better than that, didn’t I?” Only person that would ever correct me in such a way was none other than my beautiful subtle grandmother.
“I’m sorry nana. For a minute I thought you would have been mama…” I choked up a bit, feeling how I felt last night, abandon.
“Baby, now you and I both know your mother would never call. She’s proved that she’s incapable of loving or caring for anyone but herself...and that ‘man’.”
“...What’s going on? Did you need me to come over? Are you feeling alright?” Normally whenever she called early in the morning, she needed me to either run errands, come over to help clean or simply just to ask me to come over and spend time with her.
“Well sweetie, I’d love if you would come over. I want you to help me cook dinner tonight. You can bring Kish, Dip and even Maurice.”
Maurice, Maurice, MAURICE! My right hand man! I met Maurice in the first grade at Martin Luther King Elementary on my very first day of school. His hair was well textured, curls were shining in the bright Socal Sun and he had the cutest little dimples. Throughout our elementary days to now, there was no way you could seperate us. We were always together, people assumed we were dating but he was interested in what I had between my legs if you catch my drift. I never judged him for it, he had been there for me more than anyone else so my respect for him was at an ultimate high. My grandmother loved him like he was her own grandson despite the fact that she was a God fearin’, church goin’ type of woman who didn’t believe in same sex love, she accepted him for who he was and showed him attention like no other.
It wasn’t until we both turned thirteen when he decided to confide in me about his sexual orientation.  I remember him saying: “I didn’t want to, but he forced me. It was like someone shoving their fist through your ass with no remorse. I hated every minute of it. And once he was done, I knew he’d be back for more.”
Maurice revealed that his uncle Ricky, a nigga who had been locked up for fifteen years, came out and wanted some fresh new ass, and he chose his fucking nephew! To this day I can’t stand to see his nasty ass. I asked myself consistently why God hadn’t punished him...but that was between Ricky and the big man above.
“We’ll be over in an hour nana. I love you.”
And then I heard her smile, “I love you too baby.”



“Who is it?!”
Maurice’s momma never looked out the peep hole for nothing. They lived all the way in South Central so I had to rely on Metro to get to him. Wasn’t too much of a hassle though since my grandmother was lived in the same neighborhood as them.
“It’s me Mrs. Jenkins. Maya.”
“Hey lil’ hot mama! How you been? You know  I heard bout’ that triflin’ mama of yours! Just a shame!”
“If you ever need anything and I mean A.N.Y.T.H.I.N.G, we here for you...you understand?” I just nodded with a pleasant smile as I made my way through their house/beauty salon/daycare center for the Hoodrats of America. I cracked my own self up because it was true. Their living room had two couches cramped in the corner with a nice plasma on the wall with speakers in each top corner of the walls and those beautiful African statutes that every black family owned. Then to the left of that were two salon chairs along with the mirrors that faced them with all of the hair care products in the world on the counters attached to the mirrors. It smelled like Motion’s hair spray and Blue magic mixed with Peach Cobbler and greens. Odd smell but it was somewhat soothing, that “homey” feel I was never blessed with.
“Bitccccchhhhhh, come on back here with me! Kish and Dip back here too.” Maurice grabbed me by my hand and dragged me to the back den where all the kids and teens normally chilled.
“What time you want to start walking to your nana’s?” Kish asked me while flipping through channels.
“Whenever ya’ll ready.” I responded.
“Before we go, I did want to let ya’ll in on something.” Maurice had this finger half-way in his mouth, giving us “that look,” that “ya’ll I fucked him real good and now he giving me money” look. We never considered it prostituting when it came down to Rice, it wasn’t like he was on the actual street walking around showing off his goods. He met guys just how me and Kish did except he only fucked with those rich white men from Beverly Hills or Sherman Oaks. Maurice was our age but he looked grown a hell so he got away with it.
 “His name is Mr. Black C.A.R.D BITCHHHEEESSS!” He laughed so hard and loud, opening up his closet that was filled with Michael Kors bags, LV, Gucci, you name it...this fool had it stacked!
“Now how in the hell...did this Black card holding dude buy you all of this?” I asked so curiously, even though I had an idea that it was indeed him. Kish was looking deep into Maurice’s eyes waiting for him to just say yes.
“Well of course. You think I’d blow the cash I got, on this? No..no..no, that’s what I got him for baby!”
“Nuff bout’ my new big daddy, let’s go to your nana’s. I can smell that fried fish over here right now!”
Maurice had the biggest grin on his face with no care in the world.
Dip rolled his eyes, disgusted by the whole conversation, “I thought ya’ll never hush with that sweet shit man!”
I couldn’t help but let that image of all of those nice purses and shoes in Maurice’s closet remain in my mind. I was honestly impressed by how he worked his magic on these knuckle bucks. They were poppin’ tags for a young ass dude from the hood just cause’ he was slanging some good dick. Is that all it would take? Just letting some man fuck YOU and getting mad cash for it even if I didn’t like it?
I shook those thoughts as we walked out and said our “see ya laters” to Mrs. Jenkins.
We headed two blocks away to nana’s.
We could actually smell the fried fish coming around the corner.


“Is that you Maya?” I heard my nana asking as she was looking out the front window.
“Yes, it’s me!”
“And us too!” Dip, Rice and Kish made sure she knew that they would be the extra guests this evening.
“Get on in here and get comfty. Maya, go get my nice dishes and set them up on the table in the dining room.”
I honestly believed that my grandmother had the nicest, well put together home in South Central. I mean let's be real, since when have you ever heard of someone in the hood having a dining room in their house. I never considered this neighborhood as a “homey” environment. What do I mean by that? Well most of the houses down here were turned into crack houses, houses that were boarded up for what reason, I have no idea and others were just beds and couches inside with dirty sheets as curtains. My grandmother had been living in this very house for about thirty-five years and put all of her soul into the work she put down on this place.
The very first two story built home in Zulu. That was the name they gave this particular neighborhood. It was short for Zulu Nation. The entire population in this area was blacks so I guess it only made sense. The crip gang on this territory took the name from a reformed gang from New York called the Black Spades and we’ve called it that ever since.
My grandmother wasn’t just my grandmother. Everyone from the block, around the corner, two to three blocks down called her Nana Jane. People had so much respect for her because she was such a Queen. She was that mother everyone wished they belonged to. She even had her own security guards, the Grape Street Watts crips. I was never worried about her because of them. They always made sure that she was good as well as her lovely home.
“Owwweeeeee! Nana Jane this fish--” Nana cut Kish off so quick with a hard ass whack to her petite hand.
“Ya’ll gone get enough with touching shit--excuse me Lord...I meant to say stop touching the food lil’ girl! We ain’t prayed yet!”
Nana gave Kish a slight nudge with her elbow and they exchange smiles. Kish was too busy licking that good Cajun seasoning from her fingers that she forgot she was still standing right in the middle of the kitchen.
“I got the TV on in there for ya’ll upstairs in the den. I’ll call ya back in here when the cornbread is finished.”
Dip, Kish and Rice followed me up to the second floor.
I had my own room here too but I was so use to being at my house I forgot it was still here. She never allowed anyone in there because most of what she had ever bought me was in that room and she didn’t trust anyone enough to let them in there even with me being here.
“Nana Jane know the deal! She got it posted on 106& Park with Free’s fine ass. Shit! I’d pay a milly to get in between them cakes.” Obviously Dip was the only one interested in women out of the four of us so I joined in with his obsessed rant to make him feel like he wasn’t alone.
“She do got a phatty man. If I was a dude, I’d be bussin’ all over them cheeks!” Dip dabbed me and laughed. I hated that he always felt so alone when it came to talking about women.
“So where’s ya moms exactly at? She move out the Central? Out the State? Shit...out the country? I’m just sayin cause’ Sticky came up BIG TIME! I heard he got over 3 mill’s on em’ right now!” Maurice laid across the floor, looking up at me as I slowly closed my eyes trying to get rid of the thought that she had left just yesterday.
“To be honest Rice, I have no fucking idea. But wherever she’s at, I hope she’s alright.”
“Damn Maya. You are the sweetest chick we’ve ever met. Most females would have been like ‘Fuck her! I’m good without her.’” “You over here on your holy tip. I fucks with you for that though” Dip threw up his head up at me giving me a great amount of respect. I could no longer think about her though. It was just me now. But it didn’t have to be. I mean...I did have my own room here at Nana’s.
“Come on down ya’ll! The cornbread is ready and it’s sweet as can be! MMM!”


We finished up dinner and helped Nana wash the dishes.
“Go rest your feet nana. We got this.”
“If you want, all of ya’ll can stay over tonight. Plus, I have to speak with you babygirl.” She held my hand so gently and brushed my arm.
“What is it?” I asked.
“With your mother up and leaving you...I’m going to have you stay here with me. I don’t need you by yourself in the Valley, you hear me?”
I smiled with a sense of relief because now some of my worries went away. It wouldn’t just be me, myself and I. It’d be nana and myself. Secured.
I walked back into the kitchen and told all of them that we could stay over tonight. They responded with a smile and went back to finishing up the dishes.
Tomorrow morning, I’d hop back on the metro to go and pack up.
No more loneliness.
Written by rainchild__
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