The Kat Trap

“Are you serious? You sound real delusional. I ain’t jealous of nothin’ you got, especially a man you fuckin’. If havin’ a man is what makes you happy, then good for you.” I laughed at her, which I knew was gonna set shit off more. “You need help, sweetie. Real talk. ’Cause if havin’ a man lay up on you is ya definition of happiness, then you can have it. And hatin’ is the last thing I do, trust. I know ya track record when it comes to men, boo. And it ain’t a good look.”

“Bitch!” She yanked the knife off the counter and pointed it at me. Yep, this is how she comes at me. “I don’t know where the fuck you get off thinkin’ you can talk to me any way you want. Don’t have me fuck you up in here.”

Okay, so she never beat my ass growin’ up, but verbally she’d get at me like I was a grown-ass woman, like I was a bitch on the streets. This is the kinda shit that kept me doin’ me. But pullin’ a muthfuckin’ knife out on me was some new shit. And on some real shit, she was really pushin’ my patience. I got up. It was time for me to get the fuck outta there. “I’m out,” I said.

Her nigga was lampin’ on the sofa with his big-ass feet plopped up on the table and his hands down in his sweats, watchin’ some movie. He looked over at me and grinned. “Aiight, pretty. You be safe out there.”

I igged him. “Bum-ass nigga,” I mumbled. But obviously not low enough ’cause just as I unbolted the first two locks, she came runnin’ outta the kitchen like a madwoman.

“And, Kat, don’t bring ya ass back ’round here until you know how to talk to me.”

“Get real,” I snapped, facin’ her. “You pull a fuckin’ knife on me, and wanna…you know what? Fuck it. I’m out. You ain’t gotta ever worry ’bout me comin’ through this rathole again.”

“Listen here, I’m ’bout sick of ya nasty-ass attitude, you ungrateful bitch. I mean what I said: Until you can respect me and my man, don’t bring ya snotty, black ass back ’round here. I let ya ass get away with murder growin’ up. I shoulda beat the shit outta ya smart ass a few times, then you wouldn’t be up in here talkin’ outta the side of ya neck at me, like I’m one of them bitches out on the street. That’s what the fuck I shoulda done.”

Ugh! Here she goes with this ‘I shoulda beat ya ass’ shit again. She sounded like a damn scratched record. And it was gettin’ on my last muthafuckin’ nerve. I finished unlockin’ the rest of the bolts, then swung the door open, but before I walked out, I read her ass. Fuck what ya heard. She had it comin’.

“No, what ya shoulda been doin’ was bein’ a damn mother instead of chasin’ behind sorry-ass muhfuckas who either used ya or beat ya damn ass. Like the nigga right there,” I said, pointin’ in his direction. “I don’t give a hot flyin’ fuck what you do, ’cause ya right. You a grown-ass woman, and you can fuck who the hell ya want. But you got ya facts twisted. Don’t ever think you’ve been a damn mother, ’cause that’s one thing you’ve never been.”

“I kept a fuckin’ roof over ya damn head!” she yelled. “And I made sure ya ass had food to eat. You never went hungry. You always had a place to lay your ungrateful-ass head. And when you wanted to take ya ass ’cross the river, I signed the papers and it was my muthafucking money that fronted ya shit, so don’t fucking tell me what I’ve never done for ya selfish ass.”

Oh, now we on this shit again, I thought. I slammed the door. Yes, we were gonna have it out for once and for goddamn all. I’d held a lotta shit in, and it was time she knew how I felt. Just how fucked up I thought she was. And I already knew if she raised up on me, this would be the one time I’d forget my manners and fight her like a chick from the hood. Keepin’ it real, I wouldn’t really straight-up duke her; she was still my moms. I’d remove my earrings and straight-up windmill her ass. And if her nigga wanted to be all up in the mix, then today was his lucky day. He was ’bout to get an earful. And if she even looked like she was gonna put her hands on me, he’d get to see firsthand how a live bitch rocks. That was my word.

I started clappin’. “So, what you want, a fuckin’ medal? Yeah, you got my spot for me, but it was with my fuckin’ money, so don’t go there. And, yeah, you kept a roof over my head, but you kept bringin’ crab-ass muhfuckas up in here, too. If they weren’t layin’ up on ya dumb ass, they were beatin’ their dicks droolin’ over me. And from what I can see, ain’t much changed. You still stupid when it comes to a nigga. Like when I told ya ass that ya fuckin’ man was comin’ into my room, you acted like I was makin’ the shit up. You believed that muhfucka over ya own daughter, talkin’ ’bout I was probably shakin’ my ass ’n titties up in his face; that I probably wanted him to fuck me. How the fuck you think that made me feel, huh?”

She stood there, lookin’ at me like she didn’t know what the fuck I was talkin’ ’bout. “Kat, get the fuck out right now! I mean it. Get…out…before I forget you’re my child and beat you the fuck down like a bitch in the streets.”

“Bitch,” I yelled. Yeah, I called my own mother a bitch. Oh, fuckin’ well! What little respect I had for her as a mother was deaded the moment she pulled a knife on me. “It’s obvious you forgot I was your child the moment you gave birth! So fuck what ya neglectful ass talkin’. You never gave a fuck ’bout me. The only thing you ever cared about was keepin’ ya fat pussy wet, real talk.”

Her nigga got up from off the sofa and grabbed her before she could run up on me. “Come on, baby, calm down. Don’t.”

She tried to break free. “No, Jawan. Let me go. This bitch done got too grown, callin’ me a bitch. I don’t know who the fuck she thinks she is. But it’s time I brought her down a notch, and stretched her on her back.”

“Chill, baby. She’s probably upset ’bout not knowin’ ’bout us gettin’ married.”

“Nigga,” I snapped, “I don’t give a fuck ’bout you and her gettin’ married! I already know what time it is with ya bum ass. As soon as you run through her money, ya ass’ll be ghost. And she’s too fuckin’ blind to see it.”

His jaw tightened. “I’ma let that shit slide, outta respect for ya moms.”

“Nigga, please! You don’t really want it.”

“Ho, I done told you to get ya ass outta here.”

“C’mon, baby,” the nigga said, pullin’ her by the arm, tryna keep her from comin’ up on me. “Let it go.”

I stared at her long and hard. “That nigga must got some real good dick to have you pullin’ fuckin’ knives out on me and talkin’ all reckless n’ shit. But it’s all good.” I opened the door again, lookin’ at her one more time. “As far as I’m concerned, ya ass is dead to me. So when he beats ya ass and fucks up all ya change, you got what the fuck ya ass deserves. And for the record, bitch, the only ho in this room is you. So do you, boo.” She broke away from her nigga, and as she came chargin’ toward me, I slammed the door in her face. As I ran toward the stairwell, all I heard was her yellin’, screamin’ and cursin’ how she and my aunts were gonna fuck me up.

CHAPTER NINE

Young and restless…dumb and reckless…A nigga can’t teach a girl to be a woman…can’t teach her ’bout self-love…got ya wonderin’ why she’s runnin’ away…why she’s turned into a hateful bitch…look into my eyes…let me tell you why…while a bitch was lookin’ for love in all the wrong places…a young girl was lookin’ for direction…lookin’ for love in her mother’s eyes…searchin’ for love in her embrace…but a bitch had no time…denied her…deprived her…chasin’ dick was the only thing on her mind…now the young girl is a woman…and looks at her mother’s ass with disdain…and no matter how hard she tries to explain…she has learned…she now realizes…a neglectful bitch will never understand her pain…

By the time I got back ’cross the water, I had already blazed two blunts and was feelin’ right. But I ain’t gonna front, I felt fucked up for callin’ my moms a bitch ’cause no matter what, she’s still my moms. But how she came at me was real fucked up. Moms or not, I’m not the fuckin’ one. Still, a bitch broke down and called her to apologize.

“What?” she snapped when she answered her cell. Of course she knew it was me, thanks to caller ID.

“I’m only callin’ to apologize for callin’ you out ya name. But other than that—”

“Oh, hell no! Fuck ya apology, you disrespectful little bitch. I’ma bust that ass when I see you. You really fucked up, Kat. I don’t give a fuck what you think I did or didn’t do for you, I’m still ya gotdamn mother. I ain’t never disrespect my mother, and she used to beat my ass with any-and-every-gotdamn-thing she got her hands on…”

That’s because ya ass was fast ’n hot, I thought, rollin’ my eyes.