1. Riot St. James #4
Like my cousin said, I was a beautiful girl, and of course, niggas have tried to talk to me over the years, but I would never budge.
I have so many women in my family. My mama, all my aunties, my cousins, and my best friend, so I’ve seen the shit that they’ve dealt with by being involved with men, and I just didn’t want any parts of that.
Hell would probably freeze over if I ever got into a relationship with a man because that’s just how detached I was from that ever happening to me.
Instead of responding back to my cousin, I chose to disengage, and I stared out the window, paying attention to my surroundings, hoping that this was my last time having to come to this place.
“You hungry? I can stop and get you something to eat. You look like you need to eat something. Were you not eating in there?” Ari wanted to know.
“Nah. I’m not hungry,” I responded.
“Okay, so what about the other part. Were you not eating? We were all putting money on your books. What were you doing with the money?” she wanted to know.
All the questions were getting ready to annoy me, but this was my cousin, that I actually loved and respected, so I wanted to watch the way that I came at her.
“Putting money on my books didn’t just go towards food, Ari.
I would use the money to get my hygiene products, extra clothes and shit, and believe it or not, I was in there doing a lot of reading, so most of my money went towards books.
I did use some of the money for snacks too.
You acting like we had the kind of food in there that people have at one of those fancy all-inclusive resorts.
The shit that they were giving us was the equivalent to slop, so I wasn’t eating like that,” I voiced, only giving her the partial truth, not telling her the real reason why I wouldn’t eat the food that the jail served us.
“Okay. Well, you know your grandma going to fatten you up. Wait until she sees you,” she said, referring to our grandma Sharon. She was the soul food queen. Nobody in the world could cook like my grandmother.
“I’m not about to be eating none of that shit, honestly.
I told you while I was locked up that I was doing a lot of reading.
I read a lot of books about health, and how to stay alive longer.
I learned a lot about the shit that they be putting in our foods.
All that processed shit. The preservatives.
All that fried shit ain’t doing nothing but clogging up our arteries.
Ima go vegan,” I told her, and right after I said it, she turned her head to look at me like I was crazy, and then she started laughing.
“Bean, please! Like girl please, for real. Who the fuck loves soul food more than your skinny ass? What about your religious beliefs? Are you changing that too? You know people do a little time in jail, and then they come back, and suddenly their Muslim. You doing that?” she wanted to know.
“Nah. I ain’t on that,” I was real with her.
“All the good cooking that your grandma be doing, so I would love to see you go vegan. Other than that, what’s the plan?
You might as well talk to me about it now because you know that as soon as you get in your mama shop, that that’s going to be the first thing that she brings up,” she said, and I sighed, already know that she was telling the truth.
“Shit, my plan is the same shit that it was before I got locked up. You know what I’m on. You know what I’m trying to do,” I voiced, looking in the back at my little cousin, just to see if he was paying us any attention, but he wasn’t. He was too busy locked in on his iPad, playing Roblox.
Ari didn’t like my response, so she shook her head at me.
“I’m not going to even comment on that because we going to be arguing.
I’ll let Keyshawn get in your ass about that when you tell her what your plans are.
Sometimes, I just don’t understand you, Bean.
The kind of shit that you want to be out here doing, you have so many examples right in front of your face on why you shouldn’t be doing that shit.
I know you don’t want to hear this, but look what happened to your daddy, and your brother.
The life you trying to live, that’s the life that they were living, so why would you want to follow the same fuckin thing and possibly end up just like them?
” her voice went up a little bit as she was talking to me.
“I just don’t understand why you sat here, and asked me what my plan was, when you knew what my answer was going to be, and then you turn around and get upset with me when I don’t say what you want to hear.
You know the kind of bitch that I am, Ariana.
You know what the fuck I want to do to make money.
Do anything about me give that I want to work a 9 to 5?
No shade to you, but also, does anything about me give that I want to be a bottle girl?
Fuck no. I want to move fuckin bricks!” I shouted, needing her to get this shit through her fuckin head.
I loved my family, but I felt like they were always trying to change me.
They wanted to push me in one direction, when it was obvious that I wanted to go in another.
I was a product of my daddy. This hustle was in my DNA.
Right when shit was looking good for me, and I started doing my thing, getting in good with a nigga named Gold, being a part of his organization, that’s when shit went left for me, and I got into a fight with that bitch at the club, and I had to sit down, and serve my time.
Now, I was out, and I was hungry for this money, and I wanted to finish off exactly where I left off, hoping that Gold still had a spot for me at his table.
I had dreams. Big ass dreams. I wasn’t one of these regular, Miami bitches, where their only goal in life was to fuck one of these rappers, ball players, or dope boys.
Shit, I was trying to get put on with the dope boys and make money with them.
I don’t care if I have to start out on the corner.
Being on that corner will move me up. I’m talking working with the big boys, doing distribution, supply, and one day getting so good at this shit that it leads to ownership.
I’m trying to have oversees connects. I gotta be the Street Heiress of Miami.
“Alright Riot. Do you, boo. You know Uzi, right?” she asked, changing the subject.
“I don’t know her personally. I just know of her,” I responded.
Uzi used to be on the same kind of shit that I was trying to be on. She used to move weight with her sister and her dad. She was a cold ass bitch. The kind of bitch that I’m trying to be.
“Okay well, while you were locked up, she announced something big on social media. Lately, the crime rate here in Miami has been at an all-time high, and it’s mainly women that’s been getting knocked off.
She saw that problem and decided that she wanted to do something about it.
She’s about to start this class for women,” she voiced.
“What kind of class?” I wanted to know.
“It’s a little bit of everything, honestly. Teaching women about self- defense, how to property use a firearm, disciple, awareness, all those things. I signed you up for it,” she said, and I looked at her like she was crazy.
The look that I gave her had her cracking up. It’s almost like she knew that I was going to react this way, and that’s why she was laughing.
“You had to pay for that? You might as well get your money back. Fuck I look like? I don’t need nobody teaching me self-defense.
I been beating bitches asses since I was old enough to know what my hands were for.
I know how to shoot a gun. I don’t need help in that department.
I’m thinking she was about to offer some kind of class for women in the drug game, since she used to be a part of it.
I’m good. You can take my spot,” I let her know, and it was written all over her face that she was annoyed with me.
“I know you hate when a bitch starts acting like I’m your mama, but Riot, your ass is going to take this motha fuckin class!
You need structure. You haven’t been in the car with me for more than thirty minutes, and I can already tell that you’re on the same bullshit that you were on before you went in.
The rate that you’re going, your ass is going to be back in jail, or somewhere dead.
You need to be a part of that class because it’s going to have structure, and that’s something that your ass needs.
You need to learn discipline and patience.
You have all this anger built up inside of you, and I feel like going to the gun range, and out in the woods shooting is the outlet that your ass needs.
You lack fuckin guidance too, so you need that shit as well.
I already paid for the class. It starts Monday morning at 5:00 A.M. I bet your ass be right there,” she snapped.
I tuned her out, deciding not to say anything else about it.
We drove in silence the rest of the way to my mom’s shop.
The more that I sat here, and I thought about it, I guess taking the class wouldn’t be so bad after all.
I just didn’t want to be a part of something where a bitch was in my face, screaming at me and shit, thinking that she was my mama.
I didn’t want to feel like I was being controlled.
I just got out of jail, where niggas controlled what time I had to piss, go to sleep, and eat.
Trying to control me was the quickest way to have me fucked up.
I looked at Uzi as a gangsta bitch, and I loved that she was once a woman in the drug game, but at the same time, I’ve never been the type to sit back, and let another bitch punk me, so I could only hope that this wasn’t what her class was going to be about.