The Cartel 2: Tale of the Murda Mamas Read Online Free PDF Page A

1995
    S itting in the bottom of my closet, I shook uncontrollably. The stench of piss was strong in the air, and my hands covered my ears trying to block out the screams. I was terrified. My heart beat uncontrollably and I closed my eyes from fear. I wished I could disappear and avoid the tragedy that was my life, but I couldn’t. I relived this nightmare every night.
    As soon as my mother left the house, I knew what would take place: The molestation; the screams; the feelings of helplessness. It always happened at the same time. Like clockwork at 1:00 a.m., he came like a thief in the night. No matter how much we avoided it, no matter how many times we begged our mother not to stay the night away from home, nothing ever saved us. She always said no. The bitch made us stay there with him, and even though we cried and pleaded, her answer was always no. If she did not know what was going on, she should have. The shit was happening under her own roof, so I could never give her the benefit of the doubt. Fuck her too! She invited him into her home and unknowingly into her daughters’ bed. He was always there, with a fucking grin on his face. We were trapped, and our fates were inevitable.
    My sister, Anisa was the victim, and our stepfather, Perry was the bastard who shattered our childhoods. Lollipops and daisies were never a part of our world. All we knew was pain and corruption. It seemed as though abuse and neglect were the only constants in our lives. All we had was each other, and whenever he snatched Anisa from her bed, I always felt her pain.
    “Please stop … please, it hurts!” Anisa screamed.
    Tears stained my cheeks. I could hear my sister crying, but I couldn’t do anything. I wished that we could switch places; that was how much I loved her. I knew the pain that she went through, and would take it all for her if I could, but I couldn’t. He never chose me. It was always her. She was fourteen, and budding into womanhood early, while I was only twelve and still composed of all elbows and knees. There wasn’t a curve to my body, so he ignored me mostly, but he violated Anisa, which meant he violated me.
    I could hear the bed creaking from the other room, the headboard banging against the wall as a constant reminder of the atrocity that was happening behind closed doors. We wanted to tell someone, but who would believe us? Perry was smart. He made sure that he never hit Anisa. He never even left a mark. The sucking he did on her premature breasts was done lightly as to not leave any sign of trespass. We were scared, always walking around on eggshells and feeling like strangers in our own house.
    The knocking of the headboard against the wall stopped, and I knew that it was finally over.
    I waited in the bottom of the closet just as Anisa instructed me to. She always told me to hide and not come out until she came for me. The closet door creaked open and there stood my big sister. Her hair was wild and her eyes were red from crying. I took her hand and led her into the hallway bathroom. I was used to this routine. She never liked to talk afterwards, and she never looked me in the eye. I knew she was ashamed, but what she didn’t know was that I was ashamed too, because I just sat there and let it happen to her. I locked the bathroom door and ran a tub full of steaming bathwater. Anisa got right in, ignoring the sting of hot water against her bare skin. She hugged her legs to her chest, and I rubbed her hair gently while we both cried silently as she scrubbed her sins away.
    The next day when I awoke, Anisa was already out of her bed. I knew our mother was home because I could hear the sounds of Teena Marie blaring throughout the house. Walking into the bathroom, I saw Anisa leaned over the toilet, gasping for air. “What’s wrong, Nis?” I asked.
    “Nothing, Miamor. Get out … go and get ready for school,” she said. She barely got the words out before she was throwing up again.
    “I’m going to get