Vicious Is The Name That They Gave Me: A Philly Story by Ive Rogers Page B

that,” She said turning on the TV. I didn’t answer. It doesn’t seem like she is bothered by it either. I’m missing something. What am I missing? She’s just too calm right now. Is this a set up like she set that girl up, like everyone is saying?
    “Why are you acting like a little bitch?” she asked out of nowhere. She doesn’t know I will reach across this table, does she? I kept my cool.
    “What? What are you talking about? I’m not,” I told her.
    “I asked you, how it feels!” she said rudely. Kassidy better stop thinking I am some sweet little girl she can keep getting smart with. Let me keep my cool, before I go to jail for attempted murder because I will attempt to murder her ass. I’m going to be a bad girl.
    “It felt good,” I said folding my arms across my chest. I should go into details and be smart. But I’ll wait to see if she asks and then proceed.
    “Alright, that’s all you had to say. But listen here. That’s my dick. And that’s the last time you get near it, the next time it’s going to be a problem,” She warned. Kassidy is only one year older than me. What can she do to me that I could not do to her? But I can respect what she is telling me and I will honor that. I had no intentions of ever getting next to her dick as she claims again. I was trying to get next to his money. Plus, that’s everybody’s dick from what I hear. I will keep my comments to myself.
    “Okay,” I answered as thoughts still roam through my head. She got up and starts laughing. What is with her and this damn laughing?
    “Vicious, you aren’t tough. Just because you got your cherry popped, that doesn’t make you tough. You’re just another statistic,” She said. You know, at first I use to like Kassidy but now I don’t. One of these days I’m going to fuck her up. And I might let Roc hit again. See, I’m being a bad girl. I told myself. I watched her pick up her keys. “Let's go,” she said and we left. We went into the garage, where we saw Chanelle and Retta. I didn’t know what the next plan tells, but I was in ‘go’ mode. I’m ready.
    “How are you feeling?” Chanelle asked me.
    “I’m good,” I answered as she handed me a blunt she was smoking. I took it. Bad girl status.
    “So are you ready for the next move?” she asked me as we got into a black SUV.
    “Yeah,” I told her while inhaling and exhaling the blunt. I began to choke.
    “Hold up there youngin, take it easy!” Retta said. They all laugh.
    “I’m okay,” I told her. I took it in a little less this time. I’m feeling great now.
                  When we got on the highway, I tilted my head back and thought how my life was unrolling. I didn’t know where we were heading to. All I know is my life is getting crazier day by day. It’s funny though! I never really got to experience life with my mother. I mean, I was more her protector than her daughter. I would always fight the dudes off of her. I was always making sure she wasn’t getting high so much that she would overdose. And if she did overdose, I had to nurse her. It felt like I was her mother and she was my daughter. I didn’t get a chance to hang out with friends. I didn’t get a chance to even get acquainted and have a friendship. I didn’t get a chance to stay in school long enough to get a proper education. I didn’t get a chance to go to the movies. I didn’t get a chance to go to the mall and go shopping. I didn’t get a chance to go to concerts with other teenagers of my age group. I didn’t get a chance to experience life. I was surrounded my mother’s addiction to drugs, alcohol, and sex with random men. I was surrounded by her laziness to be a parent and raise me. I was surrounded by an unhealthy lifestyle. I wonder how many times neighbors saw random men walking in and out, and drugs being transported in and out. Why did the neighbors never report it? How come they never called DHS? Oh wait I forgot, everybody on my block was