Page 10 of Search My Soul (Taylor Family Saga #3)

Her points were valid, but Kamesha and I had worked through our issues.

I mean, I wasn’t left with much of a choice since she basically grew up in our household.

When her parents went to prison, she came to live with us for five years.

It was obvious who my mother favored because of the way she treated us.

Kamesha could set the house on fire, and my mother would still find a way to blame me.

Whenever we argued, she took her side without even hearing mine.

There were a few times we fought over boys, mainly because she claimed every boy who came around us.

So if they showed any interest in me, she would purposely go after them.

I didn’t pay it much mind in the beginning.

It wasn’t until I got my first boyfriend.

I thought we would be together forever, but after eight months, it all came to an end.

I came home late from school because I had dance practice, and I walked home after it was over.

My mom had gone somewhere with her friends, so she let us know that morning she wouldn’t be home until later.

I was excited because it would give me time to spend with my boyfriend.

We hadn’t been intimate yet, but I was considering it.

He hadn’t been pressuring me about it, but most of the kids in our grade were doing it.

I thought I was in love with him, and I didn’t want to risk losing him.

In hindsight, I was glad things turned out the way they did because I would have regretted it in the end.

When I walked into the house, I heard moans coming from Kamesha’s room.

It wasn’t out of the norm for her because she was always entertaining someone.

What I hadn’t expected was for the person on the other end to be the boy I was in love with.

When I saw him coming out of her room, it felt as if someone had plunged a knife into my heart and twisted it.

He stood there like a deer caught in headlights while Kamesha wore a smirk on her face.

Needless to say, I beat both of their asses until I had no more energy to fight.

When Rochelle came home and saw all of the bruises on Kamesha’s face, she returned the favor by beating me with a cord until my body was covered in welts and bruises.

When I explained to her why we were fighting, she told me I was stupid to believe a popular boy like him would ever be interested in someone as big as me.

My spirit was crushed, but no one seemed to care about my feelings.

My mother forced me to apologize to Kamesha and basically said that I needed to get used to men choosing her over me because she was prettier and skinnier than I was.

My mother constantly placed her on a pedestal while she treated me like a servant.

My best friends couldn’t stand her, and even some of my other cousins expressed their disdain for her after she slept with a few of their men.

Kamesha believed every man wanted her and used her body to drive the point home.

I’d learned to tolerate her over the years because we were family, but everyone called me a fool.

A part of me held sympathy for her because of her childhood trauma.

We were both victims of sexual abuse, so I often chalked her promiscuous behavior up to it being a trauma response.

“How have things been at home since Dad’s been back?”

“He only comes around when Mom gets paid. They run through the money together, and then he’s gone again. I don’t understand why she lets him take advantage of her, but I don’t feel bad. As soon as he leaves, another one of her men comes walking through the door,” Riya grumbled.

“They don’t bother y’all, do they?” Naturally, I worried about them because my mother never cared about protecting her children. She would turn a blind eye to any and everything as long as there was something in it for her.

“No, they don’t. We hardly see them, but we definitely hear them.

” Her revelation enraged me because no child should be subjected to that.

My mother was a horrible role model, but the moment someone called her out, she was ready to go to war.

It disgusted me to know not much had changed since I lived there.

Once we arrived at the mall, I let them pick out a variety of outfits and a few pairs of shoes.

Most of my money went toward paying bills and making sure they were taken care of.

When I checked on them a few weeks ago, I noticed that West’s pants were too short.

When I questioned Rochelle about it, she told me to buy some if I was so concerned.

Her trifling ass didn’t need to tell me twice because I would do anything for them.

We decided to eat at the food court, and West was on his second cheesesteak. I wouldn’t have been concerned had it not been for the fact that he was barely taking the time to chew his food.

“Slow down before you choke. The food isn’t going anywhere.” A mixture of embarrassment and sadness flashed across his face. When I glanced over to Riya, she wore a similar expression.

“What is it? I know you’re keeping something from me. You might as well go ahead and tell me what’s going on.” I crossed my arms, waiting for one of them to spill the beans.

“Hello? Don’t everyone speak at once.” West and Riya looked at each other before their eyes landed on me.

“Momma said we aren’t supposed to tell anyone what goes on in our household,” West mumbled with his head down.

“I don’t care about any of that. I’m your sister, and if something is going on, I need to know about it, Riya. Spill it.” She sat there twirling her fork around with her eyes looking behind me.

“Mom’s gonna be mad at us, Nee-nee. You don’t live there, so you don’t have to deal with her the way we do.”

“Trust me, I get it. However, if there is an issue, then I might be able to fix it.” I reasoned. My leg bounced under the table because I had a feeling I would be cussing Rochelle out before the night ended.

“We don’t have any food in the house.”

“What did you say?” I thought maybe my ears were deceiving me, because on top of Rochelle having a job, she got hundreds of dollars in food stamps every month.

The reason I knew was because she used to sell them to my aunts and my cousins would tell me about it.

I saw one of their receipts, and her starting balance was $680.

There were only three of them in the house, so there was no way they should be without food.

“Momma gets her food stamps on the third, but between her selling them and her and daddy cooking steaks and lobster, she never has anything left. She usually buys us some noodles, cereal, and ravioli to last us, but it isn’t enough.

Whenever we tell her we’re hungry, she tells us to figure it out.

I’ve been eating at school and trying to save the rest for later. ”

“We asked if we could call and ask you for money, but she beat us both with a cord and told us to keep our mouths shut.” West wiped the tears from his face while I attempted to conceal my anger.

“Sissy, please don’t overreact,” Riya pleaded, but I was struggling to calm down.

“I only have two years left, and I’ll be eighteen.

I plan on getting a place so West can come live with me.

You know how Momma acts, and I don’t want you to do anything because then she’ll keep you away from us. I can’t go through that again.”

“Why would you keep something like this from me?” I stood up from the table to throw my trash away. Riya and West followed after me as I headed to the parking lot with our bags in hand. Over the years, I had allowed Rochelle to get away with a lot because I wanted to have access to my siblings.

“Nee-nee, please don’t do anything stupid,” Riya cried while buckling her seat belt. I tuned her out as I made my way back to their house.

When we pulled up to the house, I was disappointed when her car wasn’t parked in the driveway because I had every intention of slapping the taste out of her mouth.

The good Lord was on her side, but she couldn’t avoid me forever.

This was another reminder that I needed to get my life in order so I could move them in with me.

It was either that, or I would end up killing her.