RedBone by T. Styles

How could this bitch do this to me? she thought. Farah, in an attempt to fit in, used permanent brown Magic Markers to color in her entire face and hands. She took what Shadow said to heart when he said tanning would not be indefinite but she was certain a permanent Magic Marker would. But because she ran out of ink, her yellow neck remained its natural color. “What the fuck are you doing?” Brownie asked, walking up to her. “Why are you trying to ruin my life?”
    “Why are you mad, Mamma?” She backed away, and into a table full of food. “I wanted to be brown like you said so I could do The Jackson Five routine. I don’t want you mad at me no more. I’m sorry for coming into the house late but these girls tried to jump me. And I’m sorry for staying on the roof that day, trying to get a tan. I know I mess up so much, but I’ma do better. I wanna make you happy.” She was beside herself with emotion. “I thought this would work, Mamma. I really did. So you could love me more.”
    “Bitch, you not answering my question! Are you out of your fucking mind?” she screamed. “You think it’s funny that I was born with this skin color and you weren’t? Huh?”
    “No, Mamma.” She shook her head. “I really thought you would like it! I wanna look like you. I wanna be like you.” She sobbed. “I didn’t stay out in the sun this time so I wouldn’t have to go to the hospital. I thought you would be happy.” Tears ran down Farah’s face and she wiped them away, causing the marker to smear. Now she looked unrecognizable.
    “Brownie, let me take her to wash her up,”.Elise said, wanting to take her daughter and grandkid somewhere more private so that the rest of the family could enjoy the event. Besides, she understood Farah, since it was obvious Brownie did everything in her power to make her feel like an outsider. “It won’t take me but a moment.” She extended her hand. “Come on, RedBone,” Elise continued. “Let me take you to go get cleaned up.”
    “No!” Brownie slapped her mother’s hand away, and looked at her with contempt. “I’m tired of you stepping in my fucking business.”
    “I’m not stepping in, Brownie,” Elise said, trying to maintain her composure. In her younger years, Brownie would’ve been dead and dumped where they couldn’t find her. “But this is my granddaughter and I wanna help.”
    “I’m gonna give her what she deserves this time,” Brownie continued. “And I don’t give a fuck what you or Ashur have to say about it.”
    “Don’t hit that child, Brownie,” Elise warned, pointing a finger in her face. “Your husband already told you about disciplining them in that way ... especially while you mad.”
    Brownie laughed. “Look around, Mamma, the nigga ain’t here. Besides, you and me both know he don’t need to say shit about Farah!” With that she snatched Farah’s arm and stormed out of the party.
    “Dear God, please be with that child,” Elise said to herself. “I’m begging you .”

Chapter 8
     
“Well, you better get a third and a fourth job while you at it, nigga!”
—Ashur
     
     
     
    Ashur was speeding down the highway, holding a bottle of Courvoisier in one hand and the steering wheel in the other. Personal demons haunted him on a consistent basis, and he was starting to think that if he died, his family would be better off. It disgusted him that instead of being there for his wife at her family affair, he elected to receive a blowjob from a homeless man he’d known no longer than thirty minutes. The moment the man swallowed his nut, Ashur stole him in the face so hard he passed out on the filthy alley ground beneath him. A closeted bisexual, Ashur chose to deal with his secret by taking his problems out on people who weren’t deserving. Hiding his bisexuality from the woman he vowed to spend the rest of his life with killed him inside.
    Ashur couldn’t tell Brownie that he begged for Tommy’s forgiveness after hurting his