Free Prima Donna by Keisha Ervin

nose.
     
    “ Fuck you, bitch. I know I stink.”
     
    “ Hey, I’m just sayin’. I need to have a clear mind while I drive.” Kristen laughed.
     
    “ All jokes aside,” McKinley said seriously. “Shit is fucked up. They’ve seized all of our accounts. I don’t have a dime to my name.”
     
    “ For real?”
     
    “ You think I’m playin’?”
     
    “ Damn,” Kristen said as she drove back to their apartment.
     
    “ I can’t believe this shit is happening to me.” McKinley stared out the window wearily.
     
    “ Everything’s gonna be all right, McKinley. I got a little stash of money put up. It’s not much, but I’ll help you the best that I can.” Kristen pulled into her personal parking space.
     
    “ No, Kristen. I can’t take money from you.”
     
    “ Girl, please. You’re my best friend. I ain’t gon’ let you go without.”
     
    “ Thank you.” McKinley gave her a slight smile.
     
    After saying hello to the doorman, McKinley and Kristen boarded the elevator in silence. Once at her door, McKinley inhaled deeply and prepared herself for the worst. Gradually, she pushed open the door. Her living room was a wreck. The curtains were pulled. Mirrors were broken. Cushions from the couch were slit open and thrown about. The coffee table was turned over. Papers were sprawled all over the floor. McKinley could only imagine what the rest of the place looked like.
     
    “ Muthafuckin’ cocksuckers,” she yelled, pissed.
     
    “ I can’t believe they did this.” Kristen gazed around, amazed by the carnage.
     
    “ This is some bullshit,” McKinley exclaimed, running from room to room.
     
    Carefully, Kristen picked up a black-and-white photo of McKinley that was on the floor. Jamil had taken it while they were on vacation in St. Bart’s two summers ago. In the photo McKinley smiled gleefully. Rays from the sun shined down onto her honey- colored skin. McKinley looked strikingly beautiful in the picture.
     
    “ They straight fucked up all of my shit. What the fuck am I going to do?” McKinley reentered the living area.
     
    “ Okay, I know it’s a lot, but just calm down.” Kristen placed the picture on top of the mantle. “So what now?” Kristen asked.
     
    “ Shit, I don’t know. You tell me. I’m a broke, twenty-five-year-old woman with hardly any work experience and not a pot to piss in. My fiancé is dead. I mean, how could my life get any worse?”
     
    The words hadn’t even settled into the atmosphere before there was a loud knock on McKinley’s door.
     
    “ You expecting company?” Kristen turned and looked at her.
     
    “ No. It’s probably one of the neighbors. They’ve been bringing food and flowers all week,” McKinley said, slowly easing up from the floor. “Who is it?”
     
    “ Leah.”
     
    McKinley gazed over her shoulder at Kristen with a perplexed expression on her face. She didn’t know anyone named Leah. Slowly, she unlocked the door and found a well-dressed woman who looked to be in her mid-thirties, standing there.
     
    “ May I help you?” McKinley asked politely with her hand on the knob.
     
    “ McKinley, right?” Leah asked, clutching her Carlos Falchi clutch purse.
     
    “ And you are?” McKinley ignored her question, afraid she might be a detective.
     
    “ Leah Thompson…Jamil’s wife.”
     
    The only thing McKinley could do was chuckle. This chick is clearly delusional, she thought. There is no way on God’s green earth that my Jamil was married, especially not to this chick. Hell, I have been with him for three years, so where in the hell has this chick been the whole time? ’Cause he was here with me at least four to five days out of the week. Yeah, this bitch is crazy, so let me shut this chick down like a bad Ferris wheel, so I can get back to being depressed.
     
    “ Look, lady, I don’t know who you are, but—”
     
    “ As I stated before, I’m his wife,” Leah said with an even tone. “So to make this as