Kitty-Kitty, Bang-Bang

in her third trimester; no judge can tell me what da fuck to do. There is no livin’ will. And there is no other parent to step up to speak on its behalf. And if there was, his ass would be en route to prison for doin’ what he did. So da only one in this matter who has rights would be Juanita Rivera, but since she’s incapable of makin’ any decisions that leaves me. I’m her daughter. And that makes me her next of kin and guardian, no?”

“Yes. But, Miss Rivera, please. Take some time to think about what you are asking us to do. All we ask is that you reconsider and think this through.”

“I’ve thought it through, and I’ve made my decision. So, this discussion is ova. Pull the goddamn plug.” I get up to walk out, then turn to face them. “If you won’t, I will. So go get the priest, pastor or whoever so we can get this done. I’ll be—”

I’m interrupted by a buncha commotion comin’ from outside the door. The door swings open. “Where da fuck is that, bitch, hunh?! Where is she?!” It’s Rosa, wide-eyed and wild. My aunt Elise is right behind ’er. Obviously one’a these cream-puff bitches in the room called ’em. “Bitch, who da fuck is you wantin’ to pull the plug on my sista, hunh? How dare you wanna kill her and her baby. You crazy-ass bitch!”

I laugh. “Which one’a you called this clown-ass ho, like that’s gonna stop shit?”

“I can’t believe you are tryna kill ya own goddamn blood. Ya mother, Kat. Who da fuck are you to do some shit like that wit’out talkin’ to da rest of her family?”

“You stupid bitch,” I snap, “The nigga her dumb ass was wit’ killed ’er. I’m just shuttin’ shit down. And for da record, ho, I’m ’er daughter. That’s who da fuck I am, trick-ass bitch. And I have more say than you.”

She looks over at Elise. “Oh, now this ho-ass bitch wants ta play daughter ’n shit. Well, where da fuck was you when we were callin’ ya ass. You ain’t been tryna be no goddam daughter—”

“Ladies, please,” the administrator says, cuttin’ in. She looks frightened outta her lil’ Cracker Jack mind. “I’m sure we can talk this through rationally.”

“Bitch,” we both snap, eyein’ the shit outta ’er, “shut da fuck up!” Her face turns beet red.

“Had you not called this crazy bitch,” I say, pointin’ at Cracker Jack, “shit wouldn’t be—” The next thing I know, Rosa bum rushes me, and she and I are tossin’ up the office, swingin’ each other into tables and walls ’n shit. She’s hookin’ off on me, and I’m hookin’ off on ’er.

“I told ya ass I was gonna bring it to ya fresh-ass for talkin’ all greasy ’n shit.” She slaps and punches me. “Welcome home, bitch!”

I’m not gonna front, this ho caught me off guard. But, I’m rockin’ wit’ the bitch. I don’t wanna slice ’er wit’ my blade, and I know she don’t wanna slice me wit’ hers. So we straight duke it out. Somehow we end up fallin’ and we are on the floor rollin’ ’round like two crazy bitches. I dig my nails in ’er face. Punch the bitch in the mouth.

“Bitch, I’ma fuck you up!” she screams.

“Then let’s go, ho!” I scream back, punchin’ her upside the head. I have my knee in ’er throat. Now I’m tryna crush the bitch’s windpipe. “I will fuckin’ shut ya lights out, bitch, puttin’ ya muthafuckin’ hands on me.” She claws and wildly swings her arms to get me offa ’er. I punch ’er in ’er socket, shut one’a ’er lights out.

Elise jumps on me from behind, wrappin’ her hands in my hair and yankin’ me off’a Rosa. “Oh, so you wanna fight ya aunt like she’s a bitch on da street, hunh? Oh, no bitch it ain’t goin’ down like that.” I start kickin’ and stompin’ on Rosa. Then dig my nails into Elise’s hands, tryna get Elise off’a me. But the bitch has my hair tightly wrapped ’round her hands and she’s pullin’ the shit outta it.

“Bitch, let go of my goddamn hair and fight me like a real bitch!” I snap, rammin’ ’er back into a wall. I ram ’er again. Rosa comes chargin’ me and I lift my legs up and kick ’er backward. By the time security comes through the door, we’ve tore the office up and all of the buttons on my thousand dollar shirt are ripped open. My sleeve is torn. And the heel of my left shoe is broken off. I’m too goddamn through!

ALL THREE OF US HAVE BEEN ARRESTED, AND TAKEN DOWN TO the seventy-third precinct. The stupid rookie pig has all three of us sittin’ in the same area, handcuffed. What a dumb fuck! I glance down at my shirt, then feet. I’m ’xtra pissed that this crack-ho bitch tore my fuckin’ blouse and I’m even more heated ’bout my muthafuckin’ heel bein’ broke off. On top’a that, I have a bangin’-ass headache from Elise tryna rip my scalp off.

Although Elise jumped in the shit, I don’t really have beef wit’ ’er. Yeah, the bitch was outta pocket, but she was only doin’ what they do—fight together, so it is what it is. She gotta few shots off. But, a bitch like me is still standin’. I lean forward on the bench, look over at Rosa. “Bitch, be clear,” I say, lowerin’ my voice to almost a whisper, glarin’ at ’er. She’s sittin’ here wit’ a busted lip ’n swollen left eye. “This shit ain’t ova, trust. You swung off on da wrong ho.”

This stupid bitch ain’t swift enough to keep it cute, instead she starts spazzin’ the fuck out, loud talkin’ ’n poppin’ mad shit ’bout how she’s gonna slice my face ’n shit. “Bitch, you right. This shit ain’t ova. I’ma fuck you up. I’m ya muthafuckin’ aunt, and you disrespected me. Oh, hell no, ho. From now on you like any bitch out on da streets and that’s how I’ma handle you.”

This is where a bitch goes into ’er Academy Award-winnin’ performance. I wait ’til the officer comes to take me to the back, then bust out in tears; sobbin’ ’n slobberin’ ’bout the bitch threatenin’ me; ’bout flyin’ in from California, ’bout bein’ distraught ova findin’ out ’bout Juanita’s situation. ’Bout bein’ attacked at the hospital by Rosa and how a bitch’s fearful for ’er safety.

“All I’m tryna do is deal wit’ my mother bein’ brain dead and plan for her funeral, and them nuts attack me ’cause we got beef.”

“And those two ladies are your aunts?” the detective asks, raisin’ his brow and givin’ me a what-kinda- crazy-ass-shit-is-this look.

I nod, allowin’ tears to streak my face. “Unfortunately,” I say, sobbin’ harder. “It’s a hot damn mess. I don’t need this shit right now, you know?”

He hands me a box of tissue and tries to console me by sayin’ a buncha shit I ain’t really hearin’. I blow my nose and continue sobbin’. By the time I finish draggin’ them hoes, I’m bein’ released; charges are bein’ pressed against both of them bitches for puttin’ they muthafuckin’ hands on me. And I’m granted a temporary restrainin’ order. I pop my hips outta there, smirkin’. Fuck wit’ me if you want, biiiiotches!

“BITCH, YOU DID WHAAAAAAAAAAAT?!?” CHANEL SCREAMS IN MY ear. I’m on the phone wit’ ’er dishin’ the juice ’bout how Rosa and Elise tried to bring it to me. And this bitch ain’t listenin’ to shit I’m sayin’. “Ohmiiiigaaaawd, Kat, I can’t believe you wanna pull da plug on ya moms like that. And the baby…omiiiifuckin’ gaaaawd. Kat, you’ve gone too fuckin’ far now.”

“Bitch,” I snap. “I ain’t call you for no muthafuckin’ sermon. I’m tellin’ you ’bout them two nut-ass bitches tryna bring da noise and you talkin’ ’bout some other shit. What da fuck, ho?! Them bitches jumped me.”

“Well, what da fuck you ’xpect? You tryna pull plugs ’n shit on their sista. And…the baby! That’s ya lil’ brotha or sista inside of ’er, Kat. Why da fuck would you wanna do some cruel shit like that? Is the baby deformed or sumthin’?”

“Bitch, how da fuck I know what it is. All I know is, Juanita’s dead ass shouldn’t be layin’ up there wastin’ hospital space. The bitch is dead and there ain’t no sense in draggin’ da shit out. And, as far as that lil’ thing inside of ’er, I’m doin’ it for its own good. Why da fuck would I wanna see that thing come into this world all fucked up?”

“Ohhhh, puhleeeeeze. Give. Me. A. Fuckin’. Break. You ain’t doin’ shit for nobody but ya’self. And it’s not a thing or a it, Kat. You talk like it’s an object. It’s a baby. Wit’ hands and feet and a mouth and nose. And you wanna take its life.”

I sigh. “Oh, well. There’s ’nough motherless and fatherless babies in this world. No sense in lettin’ it suffer, too.”

“Bitch, it’s murder!”

“How da fuck is it murder? Do ya homework, Sweetie. As long as that plug gets pulled while that thing is under twenty-four weeks, it’s all good.”

“Bitch, on some real shit, you’ve done and said some fucked-up shit before, but this right here goes waaaaay beyond fucked up. It’s some vicious, nasty, psycho bullshit.”

“Ho, please. Spare me. Since when da fuck you find a set’a morals?”