{Excerpt} Why Me by: Aleta L. Williams

Posted on Updated on

Chapter One 


Monica was in her room drawing up a few sketches for a dress that she would be wearing to her man’s going away party. When Popsicle walked into her room, Hey we need to talk,” Popsicle announced. The fallout the two had was almost two months ago and neither of them had really spoken to each other since. Monica was being stubborn. She wanted Popsicle to apologize for coming at her like that. She was all for trying to build a mother daughter relationship if that’s what Popsicle really wanted, but she knew that wasn’t the case. Popsicle wanted to control her and she wasn’t going for it. Popsicle didn’t care one way or another if they spoke. But she thought enough with the bullshit it was time for Monica to pay her dues. “What do we need to talk about,” Monica replied never looking up from her sketch book. Popsicle removed Monica’s pencil from her hand, “I said we need to talk.” “Yes. What would you like to talk about? I hope it is not Donte. If it is I don’t want to hear it, “she was done with the situation; Donte was her man and no one would change that. Popsicle walks to the center of the room. She then turned and admired her tall slim frame in the mirror that was on the back of the door. Popsicle was beautiful on the outside; people said that she looked as if she was drawn with perfection. Her hair was long, silky and jet black. Her skin color was of Caramel. Popsicle almond shape eyes and high cheek bones were to die for. Popsicle was drop dead gorgeous, but the bitch had an evil heart. She turned to Monica. “Beauty will have them admiring you. You know stroke your ego. Female and male is attracted to a cute bitch. That could be a blessing and a curse depending on how you use it.” Popsicle fanned her hand at Monica, “but you don’t have to worry about your beauty ever being a curse.” Monica twisted her lip and rolled her eyes; she had no idea what Popsicle was talking about and at that moment she didn’t care. Monica picked up another pencil and continued to do what she was doing before Popsicle walked in. Popsicle continued, “You know what we do around here to make money and since you are fucking it’s time for you to join team. Your beauty and your pussy is the best gift the most high gave you. That shit will make you very wealthy.” Monica jumped up from the bed. She couldn’t believe how her mother had just step to her. She knew what Popsicle and the others did to make a living and she respected that. That was their hustle but it damn sure wasn’t hers. “Are you suggesting that I sale my body for money?” “You can put it like that too.” Popsicle shrugs her shoulders. She wasn’t trying to sugarcoat shit. Either the bitch does it willing or by force; it didn’t matter, but she was going to do it. “I can’t believe you. I’m your fucking daughter. Isn’t that what you told Cobra that night? Your daughter,” Tears began to lace Monica’s face, “I will never sell my body. When I graduate next year I am leaving to be with Donte. I am going to be a fashion designer. That is how I will make my money.” “Oh; really. You’re leaving for college and you are going to be a fashion designer? I see!” “That’s what I said. I also said that I will never be a whore. Now please MOM gets out of my room?” Monica pointed to the door. Popsicle threw her hands up in the air. “My bad “Hotcakes” I shouldn’t have come at you like that,” Popsicle smiled, turned and walked out of the room. It was time to put her plan in motion. “And my name isn’t Hotcakes.” Monica screamed. I know, but it will be thought Popsicle! 


Release: March 16,2013
Click to purchase:

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s