Free Powder Blu by Brandi Johnson

her onto the floor.
    I jumped up holding my neck and gasping for air.
    â€œBitch, I want you out of my house,” she said, struggling to get up off the floor. “And don’t come back!”
    â€œI won’t,” I said, throwing on some clothes.
    â€œThis bitch thinks she gon’ be livin’ up in my shit stealin’ from me?” my mom fussed as she walked out of my room.
    â€œYou okay?” Miguel walked over to me and asked.
    â€œYeah, I’m cool,” I replied, as I looked around my room for my shoes.
    â€œYo’ face is red,” he said, feeling sorry for me.
    â€œIt’s cool,” I said, putting on my pink and white Chuck Taylors.
    â€œMan, she be trippin’. You just need to wait until she calm down so y’all can hash this shit out,” Miguel said.
    â€œCan you go get me some trash bags for my clothes?” I said, ignoring what he was talking about. This was the last time she was gon’ put her hands on me and I meant that. I was about to start treating her like she treated me, just like any old bitch in the street. I walked over to the closet and grabbed my money and dope and waited on Miguel to go get the bags.
    Miguel walked out of my room and returned with five trash bags minutes later. I began stuffing the bags with everything I could fit into them.
    â€œWhere you gon’ go?” Miguel asked, concerned.
    â€œI don’t know,” I said and continued packing.
    â€œYou gon’ go back to Nikki’s house?”
    â€œHell naw, fuck Nikki, too,” I said. She was still my girl and all but I would never forgive her for how she treated me when I was living with her.
    After filling only two trash bags with my clothes, I carried them to the front door with the help of Miguel. I looked over at my mom who was sitting on the couch puffing on a cigarette. I wanted her to stop me because reality had set in. I didn’t have nowhere to go. She didn’t even look my way. I shook my head and opened up the door before grabbing my bags of clothes.
    â€œYou really gon’ make her leave?” Miguel looked over at my mom and asked.
    â€œShe gotta get the fuck outta here,” she said and continued puffing.
    â€œWhere she gon’ go, Momma?” Miguel asked, desperately.
    â€œI don’t know and don’t give a fuck,” she replied, nonchalantly. “She betta go stay wit’ one of them niggas she fuckin’!”
    â€œI’m cool, Miguel,” I said to my brother, seeing that he wasn’t getting anywhere arguing with our momma.
    â€œCall me when you get to where you goin’,” Miguel said. He looked back at my momma and shook his head.
    â€œOkay, I will,” I said, walking out into the hall. I walked over to the elevator, climbed on when the doors opened, and rode down to the first floor. Still unsure of where I was headed, I walked over to the bench and took a seat. I tried my hardest to figure out where I could go and even looked through all my contacts in my cell but still came up empty-handed. I guessed my only choice was to go to a shelter because I wasn’t old enough to get my own place.
    â€œWassup, sis?” I heard a familiar voice say.
    Even through all the pain I was feeling, I managed to smile when I looked up and saw Budz.
    â€œHey,” I said, sullenly.
    â€œWhat you doin’ takin’ the trash out?” he asked, referring to my trash bag of clothes.
    â€œNaw, my clothes in here. My momma just put me out,” I replied, hurt.
    â€œWhat?” Budz frowned. “For what?”
    â€œShe tried to say I was stealin’ her dope,” I answered.
    â€œWas you?” he asked.
    â€œYep. I was breakin’ off her shit resellin’ it for a cheaper price. Shit, she shoulda been sellin’ her own shit,” I said, uncaringly.
    Budz couldn’t do nothing but laugh. “Shit, sis, you gangsta!”
    I laughed too. “It is