I jumped out before she could even come to a complete stop. I bolted into the hospital, heading for the elevator, and rode it up to the floor where they had her. I was pulling my damn hair out. I was shaking and crying the whole way up. I was trying to pull myself together, but I just couldn’t. I ran to the desk.
“I’m here to see about my mother, Denise Taylor.”
“Yes, just one moment. Have a seat in the waiting room, I’ll let the doctor know you’re here,” the stout receptionist said.
“Please, can you just tell me if she is okay?”
“I’m sorry, I know this is frustrating, but I don’t have any information. I’ll let the doctor know you are here,” she said, getting out of her seat, and I went to the waiting area. I was pacing the floor, and I couldn’t sit down. I called Marcos a few times, and he didn’t answer. I figured he may have been putting MJ down. When Chante got up there, I was still pacing.
“What’s up? What they tell you?” She asked.
“Nothing yet.”
“It’s going to be okay, girl. Everything will be fine,” she said, trying to console me.
“Dyami Taylor,” I heard a voice call. I looked up and saw a white man in a lab coat.
“That’s me. Is she okay?” I spoke quickly.
“Come with me.”
I followed behind him into a private room and sat down anxiously. I just needed answers at this point, and I was tired of waiting.
“Your mother was found in an abandoned building, and she had overdosed on drugs. Right now, we are doing everything we can, but she is unresponsive and in a comatose state. We are watching things very closely. The biggest tell sign will be how she does overnight.”
I hung my head down, and tears slipped from my face onto the floor. I was holding it together, then it turned into a full-blown cry. I wailed and I screamed. Why was this happening to me when everything started to fall into place in my life? I just thought that things would turn around for her. I knew she had her struggles. Deep down, I just thought she would beat this.
“I’m so sorry, Ms. Taylor. The key here is to stay positive. If there are any more updates, we will certainly call you. I think you should try to go home and get some rest,” he said before he got up and left the room.
I went back in with Chante and let her know what was going on. We decided to leave, and now I had the big task of letting Trina know what was going on. I couldn’t tell her all this over the phone. There was no telling how she would act. I called her phone a few times, and she didn’t answer. First, we went to her best friend’s house to check for her, and she wasn’t there. She was never home, so it never occurred to me to check there first. Plus, if my mom had been bingeing, it was no telling what kind of state the house was in. But when we didn’t see her there, we decided to check the house at least before giving up our search and returning to the hospital to get an update.
“Now, what the fuck is his car doing here?” Chante said, when we saw the gray Chrysler 300 in the driveway of my mother’s house. I couldn’t take any more today, so I hoped this nigga wasn’t over here in hopes of seeing me. It was Saturday, so he was familiar with my routine. Maybe he was waiting for me, but he knew things were over, so why would he be here? Whyelse would he be here? Because…. No way. I shook the thought from my head as soon as I had it. I didn’t have time to think about it all. All I knew was that Trina needed to understand what was going on with our mother.
We both hopped out, and I unlocked the door. I looked around, and the house seemed relatively clean, but there was Jay’s jacket on the side of the couch.
“Oh, hell nah, Dyami,” Chante said as we heard sex sounds coming from the back of the house. I felt like I could burst into flames right then and there. Without thinking, I grabbed a knife from the kitchen drawer and ran to the back of the house. I got to Trina's room, and there she was spread out, and Jay was on top of her, humping like it was no damn tomorrow. I was sick to my damn stomach. What kind of low-down, nasty piece of shit was this nigga to be fucking on my sixteen-year-old sister?
“What the fuck?” Chante screamed over my shoulder, causing them both to jump.
“YOU NASTY MUTHAFUCKA!” My blood had boiled over, and I gripped the knife firmly in my hand.
“Get out, Dyami! I’m grown, and this is my business! It ain’t my fault you can’t keep your man together,” she said, trying to sound like she was grown, but instead sounding so fucking stupid.
“Girl, hush yo’ fuckin’ mouth!” Chante shouted.
“The only reason why this nigga fuckin’ on you is because he can’t handle a real woman his age that could see through his fucking games. GET THE FUCK OUT, JAY!” I screamed.
“You didn’t invite me in. As a matter of fact, you don’t even live here. She is grown, and I waited until the age of consentto touch her, and guess what? This pussy is fucking delicious!” He said, licking his lips.
That was it! That was the point where I lost it. All the fucking betrayal that this man imparted in my life rose to the surface. I lunged at him, and I pushed the knife into his chest as deep as it would go.
“NOOOOO!” Trina said, grabbing at his chest while blood started to pour.
“Get the fuck back, Trina!” I said, tossing her off the side of the bed and pulling the knife back out of his chest, ready to stab again.
“No Dyami chill!!! He’s not worth it. What are you doing???” Chante said, grabbing me by the waist, and I tore away from her, too.
“I’M ABOUT TO KILL HIS ASS!” I said, meaning every word, and went back after him.
