Hey Moonbeams! This is a rough draft, so some parts have a part in parenthesis that I'm going to fill in later.

Enjoy!

                                                                  Part 1

                                                                Wally B

    
                                                               
                                                             Chapter 1

"Jazz, get up!" Mother yanked the covers off me. "Get your sisters ready for school." I rolled over and pulled the covers back up over my head. Every day Mother acted like these heffas weren't old enough to get themselves up and ready for school. With Marguerite gone, they expected me to do everything.

Like these were my kids.

I rolled my eyes at Mother when she yanked the covers all the way off the bed and threw them onto the floor.

Of course, she slapped me.

This was how we started every morning.

Every single morning after Marguerite left was just like this.

You would think that I would have gotten used to it by now, but I never did. I loved my mother, and she never used to treat me like that before...everything happened. She used to say that I was "the good one". She would tell me every day how proud she was of me, and how thankful she was that I helped her so much around the house. I only helped her like I did because she just...couldn't handle life. We were too much for her.

All of us.

Especially Papa.

I could tell.

She would beam at me every time I walked into the room. She never used to frown or roll her eyes at me like she did Marguerite and Claire. But now all she ever did was hit me. I didn't understand it. She had never put her hands on either one of them, but she slapped me every time one of my other sisters did something wrong.

"And Claire snuck out again last night. She still not home. I thought I told you to watch her." Mother glared at me. I just lowered my eyes and looked down at the ground. "Her fast behind better not be out with that krokodi Wally B." She always called Wally B a crocodile. I don't know why. "I see how he stares at her. That boy trouble. I told you that. Stop bringing her around him."

I just shook my head. I never brought Claire around Wally B. I saw the way he looked at her, too. But I knew Wally B, and I knew he would never approach her like that. He was too old for her, just like Christian...who she actually was in love with.

I knew she was in love with Christian because he was the only boy that she was dating.

Christian was a good boy, but he was sixteen and he lived with his grandmother, not his parents. He was always helping his grandmother around the house and doing things for her. He never ran the streets like Wally B. But his grandmother went to bed early and didn't even really know when Christian was in and out of the house, much less when my sister was over there. Sometimes my sister would stay all night with him.

Our parents never slept.

And Claire was only fourteen.

And our parents always knew where she was.

And what she was doing.

Well, maybe not what she was doing...

I knew Claire was just in love, and she couldn't help that she wanted to be around Christian all the time. And I knew he loved her, too, so I knew that she was safe. If Mother would just open her eyes, she would see who her daughter was really with and why. Claire wasn't fast like Marguerite. Her heart was just open.

My sister was a little rough around the edges, but beautiful, and the girls were always trying her because they were jealous of how the boys always liked her so much. But that wasn't her fault, either. Mother thought she was bad in every way because she fought those girls all the time, but Claire was a good kid. She never drank or smoked or did anything that the rest of us were out there doing. I never drank, but I smoked with Wally B sometimes. Mother didn't even know. I was ten times worse than Claire. I don't know why she could never see it.

Claire was mature for her age and had a good head on her shoulders. If she was willing to risk so much for Christian, I knew that he must have been worth it. Even before they started dating, you would have never seen him hanging out on the street corners. He was always where he was supposed to be when he was supposed to be there. Christian was by no means a saint, but Claire could do a whole lot worse for herself, if you asked me.

Wally B wasn't bad either. Well...he was bad. Real bad. He had a good heart, though. He had big dreams for our people, and him and his organization kind of policed the neighborhood for us. But they also sold drugs and created a lot of the situations that they had to police. He was a part of the Black Power Movement that everyone was talking about. He could see the value in it and was trying to bring a lot of their programs to our neighborhood.

But he was also a gangster to his core, and he just couldn't let that go.

I liked him, though. He was nice. He was just a street nigga like the rest. Christian was different. He wasn't into anything that the rest of them were into. Like I said, he was a good boy. Kind of. He went to church, came from a good family. You never saw him out in the streets. He was always helping his grandmother around the house and outside in the yard. Some people said that Christian had come to Baton Rouge to live with his grandmother because he was too wild in Houston, but I couldn't picture that. I figured his parents were just too strict like mine and didn't know a good kid when they saw one.

He was too old for my sister, though. That's why Mother didn't know about him.

When Mother finally stopped screaming in my face and hitting me for not moving fast enough, I got dressed and got the twins ready for school. They were twelve and in the sixth grade, but we all went to the same Catholic school. All of us except Wally B. He dropped out a long time ago. But the rest of us went to the same school.

I was in the middle of fixing breakfast when Claire finally decided to come home. I heard the backdoor creek open and turned just in time to see Claire peak her head around the door, her light brown eyes darting around the room before landing guiltily on me.

"Where Mother?"

I stared at her. She looked like an angel with the rising sun shining at her back, her hair cascading all around her face. But she also looked a mess. She had obviously thrown her clothes back on in a hurry. The top buttons of her dress weren't even buttoned all the way up. When she saw me flick my eyes disapprovingly down her from head to toe and read the annoyance on my face, she quickly realized what I was frowning at and straightened herself up. Then she stepped all the way through the door.

I shook my head and nodded toward the front room. That was where I had seen Mother go last.

"Papa?" her eyes darted around again, trying to see past the kitchen and into the back hallway.

I shrugged and shooed her away. The day was just getting started and I was already ready for it to be over.

By the time Claire made it back downstairs, I had already sent the other two to school ahead of us. Mother had already left for the store, and I still hadn't seen Papa. He probably left early and already realized that Claire was missing on his way out. If he did, I'm sure that he took it out on Mother, and that was probably why she took it out on me. I didn't care, though. I could take it.

Claire couldn't.

When she finally made it down the stairs dressed and ready for school, Claire smiled at me like I was the least of her worries. Then she sat down and took her sweet time eating, all the while still staring into space and smiling to herself.

"Claire!" I finally snapped. "Hurry up!" The girl knew I had to clean the kitchen before I left and now not only did she get me slapped early in the morning, she was about to get me slapped again when I got home for being late to school.

"Oh, sorry Jazz." Claire jumped up. "I'll help you." She started trying to balance the plates that were left on the table onto her arm and then moved to carry them to the sink. When she lost her balance like she was dizzy or something, she dropped one.

I closed my eyes and counted to three and a half. I never made it to ten. I always tried, but I could never make it to ten.

"Claire get out."

"Jazz, I'm so sorry. I'll clean this up," and she started fumbling around trying to find the broom that was always propped up against the back door. The girl was acting even more spacey than usual.

"Just go." I squeezed the bridge of my nose with my fingers and walked over to the broom.

"I'm sorry, Jazz."

"Get out!" Claire didn't say anything else. She just grabbed her books and scrambled for the door.

This day was already done.

I definitely wouldn't be going to school after a morning like this.