Chapter 2
Pernelle
I was lying on the floor, tied up, shivering against the cold concrete, feeling every breeze that came through the cracks of the doors.
I’d been cold this entire pregnancy, but now I knew I had never actually felt New York cold before.
This wasn’t just a normal kind of cold. It was the kind that seeped into my bones, but somehow, it was the only relief I felt against the aching and bruises covering my body.
These men had beaten me like I was a punching bag with no remorse.
I didn't even feel like an animal. I felt much lower than that.
They had me in a small, dark room with just a thin line of light from under the crack in the door.
When I heard the doorknob twist, my heart slammed against my chest so hard that it might stop on impact.
I squeezed my eyes shut and my muscles locked up on instinct.
I was bracing myself before the pain even came because at this point, I expected it.
When two of the kidnappers came in, the light from the other room hit their bodies, and smug looks stretched across their faces like they were enjoying this shit.
“Your bitch ass man hasn’t come through yet. We gave him the drop an hour ago. We see he obviously isn’t taking this shit seriously, so we’re about to send him a video to let him know we’re not fucking playing with you.”
“No, please don’t. You don’t have to do this. I’m sure he’s on his way. Crew wouldn’t leave us here.”
Laughter filled the room, loud and ugly.
“Crew is a cold-hearted nigga. With the way he killed seven people, it is hard to think that he gives a fuck about a bitch and a baby that he has never met before, but we are going to see. If this video we are about to send him doesn’t work, then we know he’s not coming.”
My face was already swollen and numb from earlier, and my eyes were nearly swollen shut. That still didn’t stop them from approaching me and balling their fist up to hurt me in ways I’ve never felt.
The first slap cracked hard, snapping my head to the side. I squinted my eyes, trying not to scream, trying not to cry, as the other punk held the camera up to record my pain.
After the first slap, the punches came. Over and over, fists slamming into my face, my ribs, and my sides.
His hands were grabbing in my hair and yanking hard, ripping the tracks straight out of my scalp.
Threads and strands of my 4c hair were coming loose in his hands.
My head felt raw, and my scalp burned like fire.
Though my body felt wrecked, every now and again I felt my baby kick, and as long as she was moving, I told myself that at least she was still alive. So, I am going to stay curled over my stomach with my arms wrapped tightly, protecting the only thing that mattered at this point. Her.
The kidnapper threw one last blow into my right shoulder, and pain exploded down my arm. I grabbed it with my left hand, shaking from how bad it hurt, but I didn’t want them to see me break. Fuck that, I was done crying out and giving them satisfaction from my pain.
“You a tough ass little bitch ain’t you?” He laughed, attempting to shake the pain away from his hand.
“Yeah she is, family, but everyone is tough until they're about to die.”
The one holding the camera commented.
When a man appeared at the door, they both stopped to see who was coming in, and I braced myself once more for someone else to put their hands on me.
“Amir, what the fuck do you want?”
“Y’all still beating on her? What the fuck is constantly beating her up going to do if you told the nigga the stipulations?”
He seemed irritated.
“Because we are about to send this nigga a video to make him speed up a little bit.”
“Just a video of her already beat up would’ve probably worked. Beating her even more is overdoing it.”
“Shut the fuck up, you don’t know shit. Go sit the fuck down because our father told me that I am in charge not you. You need to just make sure everybody is at their markers for when Crew comes.”
“Why can’t you two idiots fuckin do it?”
“Because we will be busy with entertainment while we wait on the next person we are about to torture.”
“Entertainment?”
“Yeah, we hired some dancers who we will murder after they are done. We have to keep the family safe, you know.”
They laughed like death was a joke.
“Whatever, fuckin Ahbal.”
He spoke in their native language and walked away from the door.
I tried to disappear inside myself, and I stared at the floor. Focused on breathing. Praying they wouldn’t touch me again.
I was working on keeping myself calm when my entire body locked up at once, and one long, sharp cramp ripped through my stomach. Before I could even process it, warmth spread between my legs. Slow at first, then more and more came.
I gasped so loud that both of them snapped their heads toward me.
I shouldn’t have made a sound, but I did.
A dark puddle spread underneath my body, soaking into the concrete.
“Is that her fuckin water breaking? Eww, what the fuck.”
Tears slid down my face, silent and nonstop, because if my baby wasn’t in distress yet, she was about to be. And now I didn’t know if I was going to survive long enough to protect her. I don’t even know if she survives for an hour outside of my womb.
“Man, what the fuck are we supposed to do with her now? We don’t know how to deliver no fuckin baby.”
“And? This bitch needs to deliver her own fuckin baby.”
“How is she going to do that, Abraham?”
“How do you think the cave bitches used to do it? They didn’t have any doctors or help, and they had kids. She better stand up and have the baby like a goat or some shit. And once she does, that’ll be even better. We’ll have two people to kill on film.”
“Yeah, you're right. Come on, let’s go. I’m getting sick looking at that shit on the floor.”
They started towards the door.
“Yell once you are done, P. Hopefully, your baby daddy is here to see the birth and death of his daughter.”
They walked out and slammed the door, leaving me in the dark now in fuckin labor. I started grabbing for anything I could reach, desperate to hold myself up, hoping that if I could stand and pace, it would calm me down a little.
Pacing had always worked for me back in the day when my mama used to make me mad about staying home and keeping Princeton instead of letting me go to parties, or when I first heard about her diagnosis and paced my bedroom floor so long, I almost wore a track into the carpet.
Pacing helped me before weed, before sex, before everything else in a crisis.
For what felt like the first hour, everything was okay.
I didn’t feel bad, but I didn’t feel good either.
I was just uncomfortable, very fuckin uncomfortable because I’d never given birth before, so the whole process confused me.
I’d heard about contractions, but the pain people screamed about on TV didn’t match what I was feeling right now, because it wasn’t really pain.
It was more like a nagging cramp deep in my lower abdomen.
From what sounded like a few rooms down, all I could hear was laughing, music, and fun like there wasn’t a pregnant woman being tortured in the same building.
This shit made me realize that the so-called thugs I’d seen in Castle Hill weren’t really thugs, or the gangsters I’d watched on TV.
These men here were the real deal because they had no souls, no emotion, and no care for anyone but themselves.
Who the hell had Crew pissed off like this was my biggest question.
I don’t know how much more time went by before the pain levels started to change, and sharper, deeper pains started cutting through my stomach, stealing my breath.
I winced and grabbed at whatever spots hurt at the time, clutching myself because I had nothing else but clumps of my ripped-out hair to grab.
When the pressure really started to hit, I began to scream, cry, and claw at whatever I could reach. I slid my back down the wall and tried to prop my legs on something that felt like a bucket, doing anything that might bring me some relief.
I sat on the floor, breathing as hard as my body wanted to, and that's when the door suddenly flew open, shedding light over the room.
“Get up, hurry up. Come on, let’s go.”
The man rushed in and bent down, grabbing me up off the floor.
“What, what’s going on? Where are we going?” I asked, panicking.
“I’m Amir,” he said, his curly hair falling into his face.
That’s when I realized he was the one from earlier who asked them to stop fuckin with me.
“Where are we going? What’s happening?”
“Listen, I’m getting you out of here. Don’t ask a bunch of questions. Let’s just go,” he said quickly.
“Why are you helping me?”
“Because my family is going about this shit the wrong way. Don’t get me wrong, I hate what happened to Salah, but you didn't do this shit, and neither did an innocent baby. So, come on. Let’s go.”
He wrapped his arm around my waist, and I threw my arm over his shoulders, clinging to him as he pulled me up.
“Where are they?”
“They are down there with some hoes thinking I'm standing watch. Just come on, we have to hurry up.”
I limped as he helped me, dragging me along and out the side door. Amir must’ve prepared himself for this escape because his car was sitting right in front of the door. As soon as we reached it, he opened the back door and helped me inside, then slammed it shut and ran around to the driver’s side.
“Fuck this shit,” he muttered, burning off.
He drove off so fast I could barely grab onto anything before my body was flung against the seat.
“I understand why you helped me, but aren't they going to be mad at you for this?”
“Yeah, but just because I’m the outside child of my father, they treat me like I don’t mean much to the family anyway.
Like I’m nothing when I’m the coldest mutha fucka in that family.
So that’s exactly what I’m about to be, nothing.
I’d rather get the fuck away from here and start my own family.
One where I will be appreciated one day instead of being treated like a black sheep. ”
He replied, and I leaned my head back against the door, still trying to use my breathing techniques. My stomach felt less pain now, but the pressure had moved down to my vagina, and I felt the need to push.
“Amir, I don’t know if I can make it to the hospital. I feel like I need to push her out right now.”
I panicked, and he looked at me in the rearview mirror.
“I can’t take you to no fucking hospital beat up like this.
I have to take you somewhere else so that somebody else can get you help.
I have to get the fuck away from Brooklyn ASAP.
I can drop you off somewhere else, and you can get help there.
Alright.” He made eye contact with me through the rearview mirror, eyes wide and frightened like he was the one having a baby in the backseat.
That showed me he had compassion. He was a human, unlike those monsters I’d just been dealing with.
I thought hard about where to go, and home to the projects wouldn’t work.
I’d have to cross the courtyard and go all the way up to my mama’s place for help, and I didn’t even know if she and Ray were home.
Princeton wouldn’t be any help either. He’d probably panic seeing me beat up like this, let alone having a baby.
Then the hospital close to there is shit.
They would probably not even have any beds available for me right away.
I debated for a good minute and then that is when the perfect spot crossed my mind. I would be protected and with people who will actually spring into action quickly for me if I go to Ciara and Hov.
“There is a subdivision out here that you can drop me off at. I can get help there.”
“Alright. Just tell me where.”
“I think the street is called Rivers, Riverside in Brooklyn,” I said between breaths.
“I think I know that area. I got you.” He whipped the car around like he was on a racetrack. The sensation of feeling the need to push got even more powerful in that moment, even stronger and I couldn't ignore it.
“Oh my god! I need help fast,” I groaned, rocking back and forth and the pressure was unbearable, so pushing felt like it was the only thing that could bring me some relief.
I grabbed the seat and pushed, squeezing the leather so hard I could hear it slipping under my fingertips.
“Wait, are you pushing out your baby right now?” Amir asked, almost running into a car in front of us, before quickly maneuvering around it.
“Yes, she’s coming. I can't help it!”
I pushed harder and harder until there was a sudden release of pressure from my vaginal area and I felt a small body in between my thighs.
I spread my legs open wider and looked down in a panic.
My baby was lying in the seat, and I picked her up while still trying to keep my balance in the speeding car.
The umbilical cord was still attached, and I did the only thing I knew how to do in this situation.
I was there when my mama gave birth to Princeton, and I remember the first thing the doctor did was smack his bottom.
So, I smacked hers, and a few seconds went by before a small cry escaped her lungs.
I gasped once I heard her and used my fingers to open her mouth, clearing out the fluid trapped inside. Once I did that, she really started to cry loud and strongly, and that’s when I broke down crying too, screaming right along with her.
“Oh, my baby! It’s okay, it's okay baby girl. It’s okay. We made it. We made it, my girl.”
I kissed her all over her face, with no care that she wasn’t clean.
Even with the gunk over her body, she was beautiful with her head full of curly hair and light brown almond colored skin that was the same as mine.
The prettiest thing about her was those tiny lips that were full just like mine, and that dimple in her left cheek, just like the man who was ultimately the reason for her being born in the backseat of a speeding car.