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The Tale of a Harlem Girl by Justine Richardson

Before I was even born, my daddy Greg was runnin’ shit in the St. Nick projects of Harlem, New York. He was a big dope man when I wasn’t even thought of yet. He always was the shit and had money out the ass. Soon as my daddy hit the age of only sixteen, he was unstoppable, maybe even a few years before; That is until he met my mama….

My mother Marie Donaldson was only thirteen when she met my eighteen year old father. Once he saw her with her smooth cocoa butter brown skin, struttin’ her stuff up and down 135^th street, he knew he wanted her…

Greg exposed her to the fast life of money, guns, and drugs. He was handlin’ his business well, so all he told my moms to do, was sit back and enjoy the good life.

And that’s exactly what she did…

He smothered her with diamonds and pearls, money and jewels, and clothes and shoes. My daddy was never a flashy man, but my mama was able to make him do anything. She was his weakness…

Years later, my brother Donovan was born… He was the splitting image of my dad, and was bad as hell…. He was always spoiled when he was a baby, but on May 5^th, 1993, I came along… Celicia (pronounced SUH-Lee-SHa) Marie Collins… Everyone called me Cee since I was little…

You could tell that when I was little, I always thought I was the shit… before I even had hips, ass, and thighs, (or even knew what they were), I was swinging my flat, 3year old-butt up and down the streets… I was always bought up good… my daddy had money, my mama was always around, and everything was all good. I can even remember when my dad made it official by making my mama wife. I was three when they got married, and after they wed, it seemed like everything got better; but I was wrong…

It was my fourth birthday and I sat at the card table in my living room with my eyes blindfolded, while everybody I knew in St. Nick projects crammed inside of our apartment waiting for a piece of my “Barney” cake that we all were waiting for my daddy to bring…

It took ten minutes of me sitting there looking ridiculous with my mom’s hair wrap over my eyes, until my daddy finally arrived…

“Surprise!!!” he exclaimed.

I quickly pulled off my “blindfold”.

“Daddy!!!”

I watched as he sat my huge “Barney” birthday cake on the table in front of me.

The candles were already in, and so all my dad had to do was light them.

Everyone got silent once my turned off the living room light and started singing; “Happy Birthdayyy toooo youuu.”

By the time the song was finished, my mama said, “now on the count of three, make a wish and blow out your candles…

“One…Two…Three…”

“BAM!!!”

The light flickered on.

“Everybody on the ground NOW!!!!!”

Soon as my mother finished counting, the police kicked our front door in and bull-rushed inside. Everybody in our living room fell to the floor like dead flies as six policemen with big guns, bullet proof vests and helmets on, came through…

I just sat where I was, staring around helplessly, not even knowing what was going on. I was only four, how could I know?

The only thing I saw was big, white men tackling my daddy…

One of them cuffed him and started saying something to him…

“You have the right to remain silent, any thing you say or do will be held against you in the court of law…you have the right to an attorney…”

The police started taking my daddy out as the other five continued to held everybody hostage on the floor… I looked down at my mama who was on the floor clutching onto my leg and crying.

“Greg!” she screeched.

“I love you Marie; Lil Donovan, you take care, hear boy?” he said to my 8year old brother…

My daddy looked at me before he was dragged out the door…

“Celicia, you so beautiful… happy birthday baby girl, I love you…”

Then the police grabbed him out…

Even after the police was gone, everyone lied on the floor for another straight minute…

Then my mama got up off the floor…

“Everybody… I need y’all to GET THE FUCK OUT!!!” my mama yelled…

Everyone jumped up and scattered out our front door like rats…

“Donovan, go to your room,” mama commanded.

“Mama, where did daddy go?” I remembered asking.

“He’ll be back,” she promised. “now blow out your candles…”

I blew out my four candles…

“Happy Birthday baby,” mommy said, “this’ll be the one to remember…”

She went to her room, leaving me to stare at my birthday cake…

I found out everything that happened. My daddy went to jail for trafficking and possession of illegal substances… He was sentenced to twenty years because it was also believed that he had committed a murder but there was really no proof that he did it, although he did, so he was charged as an accessory.

Ever since daddy was in jail for what was only about a month, mommy started acting different. She was gone a lot, and losing weight, and didn’t look or act like herself anymore…

“D,” I asked my brother Donovan one day, “what’s wrong with mommy, she actin’ different now,” I said.

“Mama’s on drugs Cee, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to find that out,” he told me.

“Is she alright?”

“She’ll be okay,” he assured…

That fall; I started pre-k and Donovan started the 4^th grade.. We now stayed with my grandma on the other side of St. Nick since my moms was never home anymore…

I figured daddy would never be back, so, who cares?