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Deep in the fiery pits of hell
lives not only the sinners,
robbers, rapist, murderers,
not only do the soul
of the wrongful rest
their head upon the pillow
of eternal flames
somewhere engulfed in pain
is a lost and misguided soul
and they spend every second
trying to overcome that
bottomless pit
only to be taunted
by the laughter of demons.


Daddy lies next to me, still out of breath, panting. He lies on his back trying to feel the nonexistent breeze in our old smelly apartment. The heat still lingers around, I can feel it fine, but I bury my head under the covers with my favorite book. The En-cy-clo-pe-dia A-L; Momma says that if you read big books like that you’ll get smart real quick and I want to be real smart when I meet up with Momma.

Momma has been gone for a real long time, getting us groceries at the store on 18th street on the other side of town. She said it’d be a long trip, but I’m starting to get worried. Maybe she needs help getting the bags home from the bus stop I can help her now that I’m older. I was a baby before, but now I’m 6 and ¾ I know fraction, how to read, count to 500, add and subtract without using my fingers, & Daddy says that since Momma’s gone I’m his special woman.

Yea, Daddy told me that every man needs a woman to fulfill his needs and until Momma gets back
I’m his special woman.

So sometimes he comes and sleeps with me. I don’t like it because he sleeps wild and sometimes he makes me touch him and all the time he touches me. & sometimes when his friends come over they say that our apartment smells like sex. I don’t have the M-Z Encyclopedia so I don’t know what that is.

And cause I’m Daddy’s special woman I can’t play so much outside with my best friend Georgie. Little girls shouldn’t play with dirty boys and I can’t hang out with my cousin Tonya anymore because Daddy says she’s a nasty hoe, which doesn’t make since to me because I looked up hoe in the Webster’s Dictionary and it means garden tool.

Well basically, (I learned that word from reading) I’m tired of being a woman and I want my Mommy to come back home. I’m going to get dressed right now and go to the bus stop. If I find her before Daddy comes back from work he’ll be so surprised. I know he will.

The bus ride is a little scary. I’ve ridden the bus before, but never in the dark and there where a lot
scary looking people on it. I made it to the grocery store and walked every aisle before I decided to just sit outside and wait til Momma comes out.

I wait a very long time and she doesn’t come. I’m patient though, so I just wait. The streetlight on the corner right in front of the liquor store is out, but the moon is full and the stars are bright I try to count them, but I think there’s more then 500 because I lost count. I’m glad the grocery store is lit, but as time goes by the lights go off and the store closes.

The ladies across the street aren’t afraid of the dark, but I’m a little scared. Where’s my Momma? She wasn’t at the store,
but if I stay here she’ll come looking for me even if Daddy tells her not to.

Its cold too, but I don’t have my sweater I’d ask the ladies across the street, but I think they forgot their’s at home, too. Some of them leave to go get there’s in cars, but some just stay there on the corner.

“Hey, little girl wake up” someone says. I open my eyes and see that two of the ladies from across the street are standing in front of me. “What’s your name?”

I just stare at them you’re not supposed to talk to strangers. They look at each other and whisper something. I don’t like secrets, whispering is very rude, but they turn back to me and ask me, “Are you waiting for your momma?” I know I’m not supposed to talk to strangers, but maybe they know Momma.

I shake my head yes. “What’s her name?”

“Momma,” I say not really knowing her real name.

“Have you ever heard anyone call her anything else?”
“My Daddy calls her a stupid bitch.” I say.

They look concerned; that means when someone looks at you like they care like they empathize with you and that means they know what you’re feeling, but I don’t think they understand cause all I’m feeling is hungry and a little sleepy.

“Maybe you could come with us and wait for her at our house a lot of people go there she may come.” the lady with funny hair says.

They’re still strangers, but maybe I could go if they were my friends, “What’s your name?”

The lady with the dark skin is named Sasha Parks. The lady with the red hair says, “Precious”

She holds my hands and we walk down the street. I ask her, “You only have one name? Most people have 2 or 3.”

“When you do what I do you only have one.”

“What do you do?”

She pulls me into a house it looks on the outside like no one lives there, the windows are nailed with boards, but a lot of people do. Momma always told me to stay away from houses like these because little girls don’t belong in them, but I’m waiting for her, so that makes it better.

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The following comments are for "the uprising of Simone Johnson (ch. 1)"
by Deeha

Simone's UPRISING--Deeha
Oh, this subject was a tough one to read. Thank you for writing something like this.

( Posted by: Legs [Member] On: August 16, 2006 )

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