Gabriella Richardson
Home, Dawn Beach, St. Maarten
8:30 A.M., Saturday
____________________________
My eyes pop open. It was happening again. I had a bad dream which has left me overwhelmed with emotion. I walk up to my body-length mirror after yawning, only to see that I had tear-stained cheeks and puffy red eyes. I sighed “Why lord?”
I walk into my little pink bathroom and relieve myself before taking a shower. The warm water seemed to feel so soothing while burning my scares abit. Yup, I have scares on my legs and arms from my father’s leather belt. My back hurts like crazy. He took my special shoes and pillow away so that I could suffer the blows.
You see, the reason why he did this all to me was because I was raped. It wasn’t my fault but it was his boss’s son who did it, so his boss sent my dad home on suspension. Makes no sense to me, but yet I’m the one suffering. I hate this all. It’s not like I live in the ghetto or so but the abuse is real. The tears were forming in my eyes. It hurt so bad.
“Gabriella kom hier (come here) !!” I heard my mother yelling at me. That was another thing. She was upset because now less money was coming in sinds my dad was home. I quickly finished showering and wrapped a towel around my body. I walked up to my mother. She seemed upset. Oh no.
“Wat doen je kleren in deze wasmand? (What are your clothes doing in this basket)?”
“They have to wash mom.” I stated softly.
“Hoeveel keer moet ik je zeggen om het in jouw bakje te stoppen? Je moet je eigen kleren wassen. Je wilt grote vrouw spelen, dus dit is wat je krijgt. (How many times do I have to tell you to put your clothes in your own basket? You have to wash your own clothes. You want to play big woman, so this is what you get.)” She said angrily before mepping me upside my head.
I turned to hide my face and she kicked me in the sensitive part of my back. I yelped in pain. My legs went numb. My mother just continued to hit and kick me. My dad walked in. He looked at me than walked back out. The towel had in the mean time, fallen off my body so all the blows were against my bare skin.
After what seemed like forever, she stopped. I couldn’t really move. I was hurting everywhere.
“Miss Richardson, are you alright?” the housekeeper, Sandy, asked me. I just continued crying. She helped me up and took care of me that morning. My parents stayed away when she’s with me.
“I know that they’re upset, but why hurt you like this?” she asked me but not looking for an answer. I slowly drifted to sleep. That was the only time I felt no pain.
Nicki Minaj
Home, Malibu, California
8:30 A.M., Saturday
____________________________
I woke up this morning to an empty bed once again. I really needed to go on a vacation. I felt lonely in this house. Even if Safaree lived in here with me. I called up Manny, my manager and see what he could get me.
“Hello Nic.”
“Hey Manny.”
“Tell me Nic.”
“I need a vacation Manny. Just a small one or so.” I said while making my voice sound as pleading as possible.
“Uhm, lemme see what I can get you.” He said and I waited for about a minute before he spoke again. “Well, MYX wants you to go to St. Maarten to promote it at the ‘Caribbean Liquor and Tabacc’o place. That’s about 3 days in total.” He said and I instantly got an idea.
“Oh okay, but Manny, can I spend 2 weeks there then pleaseeeeeeeee?” I asked prolonging the ‘e’. He laughed.
“Alright, then. I’ll clear you for those 2 weeks. Safaree will have to go with you.”
“Uhm okay no problem thanks. And Manny?”
“Yes?”
“When do I leave?”
“Monday.”
“Oh great, thanks again Manny.”
This was gonna be great.
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