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upscale downtown Detroit restaurant, but between their two paychecks, the couple barely made enough to breach the poverty line.
    Not long after Dakota was born, Bemossed took a walk to the store around the corner for some chocolate chip ice cream and a pack of Camel Lights and never returned. Her mother was absolutely devastated. Evelyn couldn’t quite get over the abandonment, so she often took out her verbal aggression on Dakota. At that tender age where most kids started to form bonds and make friends with others, Dakota wasn’t allowed to have any, and it was always mandatory that she come right home after school. Dakota never asked why she couldn’t have any friends. That question wasn’t worth the slap in the mouth for stepping outside of a child’s place.
    To escape her loneliness, Dakota often fantasized about another life, a better place. Fairy tales. There was no pain in her perfect place, just love, peace, harmony, and tons of fun. This was the reason why she enjoyed school so much. It gave her a sense of freedom. Sure, there had always been girls who hated on her looks, but she’d rather be amongst them than be around her tortured soul of a mother.
    At four-foot-ten Dakota might’ve had the height of a Smurfette, but her beauty was otherworldly. The biracial melting pot had pooled the richness of ebony flesh and layered it with the prideful red skin belonging to Native American people to produce Dakota’s breathtaking, exotic copper complexion. Her fine, silky locks fell down her back, a snapshot of similarity to her Indian ancestors who once roamed the rich, vast North American wilderness before the European settlers. Her African American heritage shone through in Dakota’s high cheekbones, thick lips, wide nose, and full hips, thighs, and butt.
    Dakota puckered out her lips and then flared her nostrils—anything to make herself look ugly. God knew she’d heard it enough from her mother. But she continued staring in the mirror, as if not believing the image of perfection that stared back.
    â€œThis chile of mine—I swear she gonna bring out the devil in me, ’cause I don’t hear no damn water,” Dakota heard her mother grumble as she walked down the stairs from the upstairs bedroom.
    The girl quickly went into her dresser drawers, grabbed what she needed, and bolted across the hallway and into the bathroom, closing the door.
    One thing she didn’t do was disobey her mother. Evelyn was quick-tempered and heavy-handed, sometimes not giving a crap where her open-hand slaps landed on the child.
    Dakota wiggled out of her gown and panties. She didn’t waste a single moment jumping into the tub, closing the shower curtain, and turning on the water. When the bathroom door opened Dakota almost peed herself. Not knowing if her mother would snatch open the curtain and get busy with that thick black belt caused her to tremble all over.
    She could hear her mother open the door to the medicine cabinet. A few pill bottles rattled around. “Dakota, I have to work overtime tonight, so you have your butt in the house when you come home from school. You hear me?”
    Dakota took too long to answer and her mother ripped back the curtain. The young girl almost jumped out of her skin at the sight of her short, full-figured, dark-skinned, chunky-faced mother.
    Dakota defensively put up her hands and cowered in the corner as the water sprayed over her body. “Mama, please don’t hit me!” she cried out.
    Evelyn had meaty shoulders, flabby biceps, and a fat, blubbery stomach that left her looking like she was nine months pregnant. The belt of the black terrycloth housecoat wrapped around her stomach looked to be struggling to keep Evelyn’s bulge inside.
    â€œWhen I call you at five o’clock today, you better be in this house and getting your lesson,” Evelyn said intensely with a no-nonsense look on her face.
    â€œYes,