Never Gonna Be Wifey Page 4

  The judge gave that bitch thirty years in prison. I was outraged. They should have given her life, but she was given that time because of the plea that they offered her in exchange for testifying against Alijah’s boys. I felt so bad for them. Because of their loyalty to Alijah, they also got caught up in this bitch’s web of deceit. Now with this bitch getting ready to testify against them, they had no chance of seeing the streets again. So many lives lost because of this wicked bitch!

  Everything happened so fast! The judge sentenced her ass; I looked up, and this ho done fainted. I was hoping she was dead, but I heard someone holler, “They got a pulse.” I guess her ass wasn’t so tough after all. I didn’t stick around to see what happened to her. Jeanette and I made our exit as the EMTs entered the courtroom. I had better things to do than sit around and watch this foolery!

  * * *

  Exactly two weeks later, I was packed and was on the road to Atlanta, Georgia. I had contacted a real estate agent out there and learned that the houses were pretty cheap. I had a list of them to look at when I got there. I didn’t want anything huge; a three-bedroom was fine; one bedroom for me, one for Jeanette, and one for Azir. I was happy that I had money stashed away because after losing everything, I don’t know what I would have done. I can’t imagine living forever without you, Alijah. You spoiled me and gave me the finest of everything and your love. It kind of hurts thinking about it, because I would trade anything in this world to have him back.

  “You all right, baby girl?” Jeanette interrupted my thoughts.

  “Yeah. Just hard leaving the one place I know, but I’m good.”

  “Well, look at it like this. Your memories will always be with you. It’s not easy, but you are doing what’s best for you.”

  “I guess so,” I said.

  Yes, it’s true that I wanted to leave Richmond because of everything that went down, but the main cause was a detective’s investigation. I’ve been praying every day that God would let it all go away. I can’t picture me doing time in prison behind that bitch. Alijah assured me that they would never find the body because it was gone. I knew he was on top of his shit, so I can only hope that the police were just fishing.

  Jeanette and I didn’t talk much on the ride. We were both lost in our thoughts. I tried not to put a lot of stress on her, because I knew she was an addict and stress could trigger a relapse. I knew I wouldn’t know how to deal with her if she was on crack again. My life was already fucked up; I couldn’t take anymore.

  After making a stop in Charlotte, North Carolina, and again in Greenville, South Carolina, I saw a sign that read: WELCOME TO GEORGIA. I knew we were almost there, and I let out a long breath as I drove into my future.

  We stayed in a hotel for ’bout a month. Every day we were out house hunting. I swear my ass looked at over twenty houses. This was harder than I thought it would be. I finally found a house that grabbed my attention. It wasn’t as big as my previous house, but it was nice. I told the realtor that I wanted it, and he handled everything else. The process was very easy ’cause I paid cash. Jeanette and I were both happy because we’re tired of living in the hotel.

  It took us a few weeks for everything to get finalized; then we were able to move into the house. It took us no time to get the things out of storage and get ourselves settled. It felt like home again after we decorated it the way we wanted it. I thought I could finally get some sleep at night. Ever since I’d been shot, sleep became my worst enemy. The pain in my head was unbearable and seeing Alijah’s cold, stiff body in the coffin made my pain worse. At first, I was taking the prescribed dosage of Percocet, but the pain became more intense; it was to the point where I used to lie in my bed crying. I started popping pills like I used to do the first time I got shot. My doctor noticed that I was coming to him too early for refills. He advised me that I should slow down and seek some help. I didn’t think I had a problem, so I told him okay, grabbed my prescription from him, and walked out of the office.

  That didn’t stop anything; I found two other doctors that I started to visit. After explaining to them how much pain I was in, it took them no time to write me a prescription for the same ailments. The extra pills from those doctors helped the physical part of the pain. I was constantly high every day, all day. I ain’t going to lie; not only was it helping my physical pain, but it was also helping my mental pain. I didn’t cry as much as I used to when I was back in Richmond, but I also realized the more I popped the pills, the more dependent I was becoming.

  * * *

  After a month of doing nothing but eating and hanging around the house, I decided it was time for me to get shit in order. I got up extra early this morning because I had an appointment with my real estate dude. I was looking to buy a salon. After not being able to work for a while, I felt like it was time to step back into reality. I’ve been living off my savings, and I knew if I didn’t have any income coming in, it would only be a matter of time before my money would start getting low. Alijah had money stashed away for Azir, but I didn’t want to touch it. Not now, anyway, until I was sure the feds didn’t know anything about it. I knew this wasn’t how Alijah intended for it to be. If he were here, he’d make sure that I didn’t want for anything, but the cold, harsh reality was that he was gone, and I was still here.

  I wasn’t trippin’ because I was a go-getter, and I was going to get mines by any means necessary. I took a shower and was about to get dressed when I rushed back to the bathroom. I kept trying to vomit, even though my stomach was empty. I couldn’t stop the dry heaving. I hated it when this would happen because all that came up was some green, nasty liquid. My chest started to hurt every time I tried to throw up, and my eyes filled with tears as I knelt down beside the toilet. I knew what I needed: my pills, which were downstairs in my pocketbook. I managed to wash out my mouth, then opened the bathroom door.

  “Sierra, we need to talk.”

  “Talk’bout what? Something wrong?”

  “Yes, something is terribly wrong.”

  “And what’s that?” I pushed past her.

  I had a feeling where this conversation was heading, and God knows I wasn’t in the fucking mood.

  “Sierra, fo’ months, I’ve watched you, and I see some of the same signs that I had when I was doing drugs.”

  “You’re accusing me of being a crackhead?” I stopped dead in my tracks.

  “No, not crack. Hell, I’m not sure what it is, but my guess is it’s those painkillers that you’ve been taking.”

  “The doctor prescribed those.”

  “They might’ve, but you are becoming too dependent on them. I listen to how angry you get when you don’t take them; then right after you take them, your mood changes to happy and playful. I know those signs, Sierra.”

  “Oh, that’s right. I forgot I was talkin’ to a junkie, but just because you’re one, that doesn’t make me one, Mother,” I said sarcastically.

  “Sierra, you see how you behaving right now? It just confirmed that I’m right.”

  “Listen, lady! I don’t want to disrespect you, so please worry ’bout yo’ fuckin’ self. Last time I checked, I was grown and don’t need to explain myself to no fucking body,” I said as I stormed downstairs.

  I thought this lady would have gotten the picture and left me the fuck alone, but no, this crackhead, dopefiend, selling-pussy-ass bitch followed me downstairs.

  “Sierra, listen to me. You need to seek help before it’s too late. What’s going to happen when these pills can’t stop the pain anymore? I know the next step up is heroin, and, baby girl, that ain’t nothing nice to play with.”

  “Listen, bitch, please leave me the fuck alone before I put you out of my shit. Yo’ ass should be somewhere up in somebody’s NA meeting. Remember, you are a crackhead. You need the fucking help; if not, you’re going to be around here with a glass dick in yo’ mouth, fuckin’ and suckin’ every nasty-ass dick that comes your way.”

  “I’m not even going to respond to you. Trust
me, I accept that I was a piece of shit of a mother, and I accept everything that you dish out to me. As much as I hate the things that you say to me, I know it’s the truth, so I don’t say too much. But before you go pointing fingers at me, go look in the fucking mirror and see how different you are. You may not be a crackhead, but you sure are on your way to something stronger than pills. Yes, I left you when I felt like I couldn’t take care of you, but how are you so different? It’s been months since you took Azir down to the islands, and he still there. I beg you every day to get your baby, so you won’t walk the same path I went down. Look at me; I’m damn near fifty with nothing. No education and no car. Nothing.”

  I took a step closer to her face . . . Then I spoke.

  “I’ll never be you. I didn’t just up and leave my baby. He’s with his grandma, and I’ve been through a fuckin’ lot. That’s why I haven’t gone to get him as yet. Bitch, don’t you ever accuse me of not being there for mine. I will never be you. I call my child every damn day. I send him money every damn week. When you left me, did you do any of that? Hell nah. Bitch, you left me for dead,” I said and stormed off to get my pocketbook.

  That bitch just ripped my heart into tiny pieces, but I wouldn’t dare show any emotion in front of her. I grabbed my Michael Kors purse and pranced upstairs, went into my room, and slammed the door behind me. I snatched up the bottle of Percocet, went to the bathroom, and washed them down with the sink water. I sat on my bed with tears rolling down my cheeks, feeling like I wanted to crawl into a hole instead of being there. I was mad at her for pointing out my flaws, but who was she to judge me? Only God knows the mental and physical pain I was experiencing. I started to bawl uncontrollably; I didn’t want to go on anymore. I grabbed the pill bottle again, went into the bathroom, and swallowed all of them. I wasn’t sure how many I swallowed, but in a quick second, I regretted my stupid decision. I walked into my room and crawled back into my bed, totally forgetting the reason I was up so early in the first place. Instead, I pulled the cover over me as my thoughts became distant, and I started to drift off to sleep.

  “Sierra, open the door,” I heard someone yelling from what appeared to be far away.

  I tried to mumble something to let the person know I wasn’t feeling well, but the sound diminished and my voice trailed off . . .

  * * *

  “Sierra, please hang on, baby. The ambulance is on the way. Please, baby, I didn’t mean to upset you.” Jeanette’s voice sounded like it was far away. I tried keeping my eyes open, but I was sleepy. I just need to sleep, I thought.

  I ended up in the hospital again. This time, I was forced to drink charcoal. The taste was horrible, but I quickly downed the bottle. The doctor informed me that the shrink was coming to interview me. This shit was getting out of hand, and I had no idea how to stop it.

  Jeanette sat in the chair across from my bed. She wore a disgusted look on her face. I don’t know why, because she didn’t have to be here. I was grown, and I could handle whatever was thrown at me.

  I was still feeling weak and disoriented. I wanted to cry, but I used all my might to keep it all in.

  “You don’t have to be here. You can go home.”

  “Sierra, you need to calm yo’ damn nerves. I’m here because I chose to be.”

  Before I could respond, a tall, white woman walked in. “Hello, Miss Rogers. I’m Doctor Blackwell.”

  “Hi.”

  “Can you please excuse us? I would like to talk to the patient in private.”

  “Sure,” Jeanette said before she walked out.

  “So tell me what’s going on with you. You came to us via ambulance because you overdosed on prescription pills.”

  “I don’t know what happened. I was upset and felt like I wanted to die, so I took the pills.”

  I could’ve lied, but honestly, I was tired and had hit rock bottom. I was sick and tired of being sick and tired. My life had spiraled downhill over the past year, from me getting shot twice to Alijah going to jail, to him getting killed. This was too fucking much for one person.

  “Did you want to harm yourself or others?”

  “I don’t know what I was thinking. I just wanted to die,” I busted out bawling.

  “Here’s some tissue. I’ll give you a few seconds to get yourself together.” She handed me a box of Kleenex.

  After I got the crying under control, I gave her the rundown of what was going on with me. It wasn’t easy letting a total stranger in my business, but I’m glad I did.

  “Listen, lady, I got shot twice within a year by a bitch that was crazy, and that wasn’t the worst. You know what the worst is? My man and the love of my life getting killed by the fucking police. They didn’t have to kill him. He was a good man,” I cried.

  “I’m sorry about all that you had to go through, but how did that make you feel?”

  “Make me feel?”

  “Yes, are you angry at the police? Do you want to hurt them?”

  This ho was trying to set me up. I might be at my lowest, but I wasn’t totally gone.

  “No, I’m just fucking angry. I just want him back. I want to tell him one last thing.”

  The more I let it out, the better I was starting to feel. I didn’t give a fuck if that cracker bitch sat on her mighty throne judging me. Shit, if she ever experienced half the shit that I’ve been through, she would have downed more than just pills.

  “Okay, Miss Rogers. After listening to you, it’s my professional expertise that you are experiencing a mental breakdown. It’s not rare for a person that’s experienced the kind of trauma that you described. I also believe you have an addiction to pain medication. I want to admit you to our in-patient psychiatric department. That way, you can get the help that you need.”

  “What the fuck you mean? I ain’t fucking crazy.”

  “You are correct. You’re not crazy, but you are going through a difficult time, and you need professional help. I’ll ask your mother to sign your admission papers so we can get you the help you need.”

  She didn’t wait for a response; instead, she walked out of the room. Seconds later, she returned with Jeanette.

  “Miss Rogers, I was telling your daughter that I would ask your permission to have her admitted to the psychiatric unit.”

  I shot Jeanette a look. This bitch done lost her mind if she agreed to some bullshit like this, I thought.

  “Well, baby, you need the help, and the only way you gonna get it is if you stay in here.”

  “What? Who the fuck died and made you the fucking chief of my motherfucking life?”

  “Calm down, Miss Rogers. Your mother is only trying to do what’s best for you. No need to get upset; it’s only temporary.”

  “Really? You’re going to let a crackhead bitch decide if I should be admitted? I’m grown as fuck, and I’m getting up outta here.” I sat up on the bed.

  “I’m afraid you can’t do that! The way you’re behaving, you’re not only a danger to yourself, but also to others.”

  I watched as she radioed for help. This white bitch was really performing. That’s what my ass got for running my mouth, telling this bitch my business. I saw what was happening; this bitch didn’t come here to help me. She knew all along what she was going to do.

  I looked at Jeanette and shook my head. This bitch had no idea what she had done, but she’d find out soon as I got up out of there. Before I knew it, my ass was hauled off to the psych unit. It was cold as an icebox. I shivered as I sat there in one of those straitjackets. I was stripped of my clothing, which made it one of the most humiliating times of my life. So I lost my rights and my dignity all in one day, I thought. If they thought I wanted to kill myself earlier, this only made it worse.

  I tried to doze off, but the coldness prevented me from doing so. I sat up and wrapped my hands around my knees.

  “Chile,” I heard a warm, soft voice say.

  I jumped up, only to see the all-too-familiar face smiling down at me.

  “Nana, you
startled me. What you’re doing here? I thought I would never see you again.”

  “You should know by now that wherever you go, I’m always a few steps behind.” She gave me a slight smile. “Chile, you listen to me. I need you to dig yo’self out of this pit that you’re in.”

  “I ’ont know how. I’m feeling too weak,” I cried.

  She took a few steps closer and sat beside me. “You have to. You the only one that can do it. Reach down in your soul and dig for your inner strength.”

  I didn’t respond; instead, I sat there crying.

  “Dry them damn tears! Take this time you’re in here and get your strength back. This is for your own good. God didn’t bring you this far to leave you.”

  “It’s easy for you to say. I just wanna die.”

  “Foolishness! Chile, you’re not a quitter. Get your shit in order and fight for you and that baby.”

  “I—” before I could finish my sentence, I looked beside me, and she was gone.

  Great! She’s also upset with me too, I thought.

  I sat there crying and pondering what she said to me. This was my second time seeing my nana. It was always times when I felt like I wanted to give up. That lady never left me, not spiritually.

  * * *

  I realized fighting these people was not going to get me released any faster. So I was obliged to everything they wanted me to do. I had to do group counseling twice a week and individual counseling every day. The doctor decided he didn’t want to put me on any other medication just yet because I was addicted to painkillers. I had to admit that after about two weeks of no painkillers, I was feeling better. My emotions were not all over the place like they used to be, and I was coping better with the loss of Alijah. Talking with the counselors also helped me to come to terms with why I harbor so much anger toward Jeanette. This was my first time letting anyone dig deep into my thoughts. It hurt at first to talk about everything I went through. But the more I did it, the easier it became.