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Book online «Birth Story - Alexa Cruz (best thriller novels to read txt) 📗». Author Alexa Cruz



As my mother sat on the front steps on hot Saturday afternoon a feeling over came her, telling her to go to the hospital because it was time, even though her water hasn't broke yet.
“Trey!”, my mother yelled. “If you see Alex tell him I’m going to the hospital”, she told one of my fathers boys she happen to see walking down the street.
“Iight, ill give him the word”.
Every guy in these streets worked for my father, they respected him therefor they respected my mother. She hopped on the sixty-sixty bus and went to the hospital.
Hours later which seemed like forever she finally heard, “Heres your healthy baby girl”.
They say when a child is born the reason their fist are balled up tight is because they have something to bring into the world. I guess my parents and this world is in for a rude awakening when it comes to Arie Taylor. I came into this world on July 11, 1992 at Brighams and Women's Hospital, Boston Mass. The first person I seen was my mother, Mya. I could tell there was something loving and special about her.
Holding me tight in her arms for the first time, “Beautiful,” my mother whispered to me, with tears filling her eyes.
I couldn't do anything but gaze at her in amazement. She had her hair in a doobie, with her black silk head wrap, her usual hair attire when she doesn't want her hair messed up. I looked around and the only people I seen besides my mother were doctors. My father was out on the block with the corner boys doing only the lord knows what. My mother told me she was so happy that day even though there was no man by her side during my birth. My mother is a strong woman, she went through fifteen hours of labor and forty-five minutes of pushing, by herself. She was in a room all alone, I guess thats why I don't mind being on my own now. For the next twenty-four hours she spent it looking at me and talking to me. After a day in the hospital my mother took me to, “The Castle Square Housing Developments”, plain ol’ C.T. to us. Pissy hallways, base heads, corner boys, hood rats, gun shots and police, my soon to be home. My mother walked up the two flights of stairs and opened the door to apartment 314. The little nine hundred square foot apartment was packed. People were everywhere, “Real love” by Mary J. Blige was playing. Everyone had a drink in their hand including my father, Alex Taylor, but everyone knows him as “A.K”.
“Move out the way!” he yelled pushing people out the way to come see me. “Y'all acting like she's your daughter, back up, dang”, my father said in his deep voice. The voice that had the whole hood shook, “Heres daddy’s baby girl” he said giving me a kiss on the cheek.
My mother gave him the nastiest look as he picked me up, he knew he was going to hear it. She took me into the room and sat on the bed. Hours went by and my father stayed in the living room with half the block, blunts where smoked, bottles were drank, and laughs were shared and he didn't go into the room once. Three hours went by and everyone finally left. My father walked into the room and could see how pissed my mother was.
“You good?” he asked.
My mother jerked back, “Am I good? You really have the nerve to asked that! I was in the hospital giving birth to your daughter and you never showed up! Me or Arie, hell, both of us could have died and you weren’t there! I come in and you don't say a word to me”, my mom yells with her voice full of hurt. “Hours later I get a ‘you good?” she says mocking my father.
My father walks up to my mom hugging her tight so she cant pushing him away, “I’m sorry, I know I messed up and I cant make up for it but...”
“I was alone in that room”, my mother says with her voice shaking as she cried. “I was scared”.
“I give you my word I’m not going anywhere, I’m so sorry, I love you”, my father promises her.
Theres nothing my mother can say, they been through a lot and they need each other. My father didn't want me to grow up like him without a father in his life. Empty promises and fighting just to make up, is what I soon learn fills my parents relationships on a daily basis. This is love.

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Publication Date: 09-30-2011

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