july, twenty-twelve.

    "MEMBERS OF THE JURY," Carol began, directing her attention towards them. "Oscar Diaz is a gang member, yes, but I hope you all have enough empathy in your hearts to see the reasons why. With his father gone and mother dead, he took sole responsibility to care for his younger brother, only eight at the time, so he didn't end up in the foster system. He needed to get a livable income quickly to support he and his younger brother and joining Los Santos was the only way he knew how."

        She walked closer to the jury box, stopping directly in front as she spoke to them. "I have records, transcripts and seven letters of recognition in my hand for Oscar. His records are clean except for the incident we are discussing in trial right now. He has been in Los Santos for over two years and this crime, what we are discussing, is the only thing on his record, keep in mind what we are here for today is merely an act of self defense."

        She switched the papers around before holding up the new one on the top. "This is is transcript for his entire high school career. All of them are As and half of the classes he was enrolled in were AP classes. He applied to five colleges the summer before his senior year and he got accepted into each one, including NYU and Columbia. All his teachers including the principal wrote outstanding letters of recognition for him. He was the valedictorian for his graduating class, but he threw all of this away for his baby brother, because he needed them."

        She brought her arm down, looking at the jurors intently. "Oscar has always been a man who put the ones he loves before himself. He wishes nothing but to protect and take care of his loved ones. He's not a violent man, proven by Delilah's testimony and his otherwise clear record. What Oscar did on that roof the night of July 4th, he did to protect the ones he loves. It wasn't gang related and it definitely wasn't premeditated. It was an instinct my client has that comes out when the people he care about are in danger and need him. Simple as that."

        She turned back to me, walking over to the stand. "Delilah, you're a lovely girl."

        I smiled, awkwardly, "Thank you."

      "Straight A student, much like Oscar. Student body president, loved by your teachers and peers. Not at all what people picture a girl from Freeridge to be like. Something tells me for you to choose to be with Oscar, he would have to have some similar and redeeming qualities, no?"

      "Objection!" Samuel yelled. "Leading question."

      "Sustained," Judge Julie stated.

      "Delilah," Carol restarted, leaving behind her previous point, quickly. "Would you agree that many people saw Oscar as the opposite of what these papers show he is?"

      "Yes, completely," I nodded. "Because he was in a gang everyone doubted he was that smart."

      "But you never did?" she questioned, quizzically.

      "No," I shook my head. "I always knew he was capable of better things from the moment I met him. Everyone else didn't think so, though."

      "What do you mean?"

      "When graduation season came around and it was announced Oscar was the valedictorian it caused some fuss. Some people thought he hacked the school's system or blackmailed the principal to give him the number one spot. No one believed in him," I confessed.

      No one ever did.

     "But you believed him?"

    "Yes, I was the only one," I said, sadly. "Maybe besides Mariana. And then my sister and Dominique a little later."

      "Delilah, can you answer me a question?" Carol asked.

       That's kind of what I was here for. To answer your questions. To save the love of my life.

      "Yes, of course," I replied.

      "Why did you and Oscar form this seemingly inexplicable bond that you described in your original statements?" she asked and my eyebrows slightly knitted together in confusion. She explained further, " I mean, going past the saving his life the first night, what is it do you think that made both of you seek each other out after? What made you two stick to one another? Why you two?"

      I sat there at a loss for words for a few moments. In all honesty, it hadn't been a question I thought about much. At the beginning, when Oscar and I kept finding one another we just kind of... did it without much thought. It was like a second nature for us. We felt connected after that first night and we wanted to keep that going.

      As everyone stared at me expectantly, including Oscar, the answer finally came to me. The reason why we couldn't let each other go after that night. Why it had to be us two together.

      "We were lonely," I answered, connecting my eyes with Oscar's. "Empty," I added, tears brimming my eyes as I remembered that cold feeling that I had forgotten about in these last few months. "And we both knew the other was, too." I swallowed back my tears. "And I guess we both thought, maybe this person can make me less lonely." A beat of silence weighed in the air before I finished. "Maybe they can fill me up."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

( fill me up until i overflow. )

august, twenty-eleven.

      SOME PEOPLE THRIVE off of being alone. The real introverts who crave nothing but an empty room, the only noise being music, a TV or maybe neither - maybe they just preferred silence.

      I was never one of those people.

      I liked being around others. It's part of why I volunteered for all of these school activities and why I liked working at my Dad's gym. I liked doing stuff and being social. I was afraid I'd completely break if I was left alone with nothing but the silence. Humming and singing could only go so far.

      It's also why I liked sharing a room with Joanna. I knew she hated it, but I was secretly thankful. I already spent most of my day going through my life feeling utterly alone, I couldn't go to sleep and wake up the same way, too.

      And I'm not talking about the kind of lonely that someone locked up for days on end by themselves experiences. I'm talking about the kind of lonely where you're surrounded by people, but still feel alone.

      I was surrounded by Dominique, Joanna, my Dad and his never-ending girlfriends, countless other students at school, the guys at the gym and Prophet$ that seemed to be everywhere and they all knew me and talked to me, but it was never enough.

     I felt selfish thinking that, but it was truth. It just wasn't enough. I still moved through my daily life as if I had an invisible bubble around me that stopped me from truly connecting with people.

      And sometimes, especially at home, especially like now, I felt the most alone.

      I sat on the living room couch with my notebook open as everyone in the house whizzed around me. Trinity was talking loudly and obnoxiously with her friend on the phone, Dad was on the phone with OG Clemmons talking about Prophet stuff and Joanna was locked in the room doing whatever she does during this time.

      A long time ago when Joanna first complained about sharing rooms I made a time every few couple of days where each of us would get the room to ourselves for sake of privacy and staying sane. Although, I never used mine. Like I said, I didn't like being alone. But I let Joanna have her time and that time was now.

      Well, until she came running out with her skateboard.

      "Later, loser," she said, rushing to the door.

      "Wait, where are you going?" I asked, watching as she unlocked the multiple latches and locks we had on our door.

      "Skating and then smoking," she answered, pulling the door open.

      "Oh, well when will you be-"

      The door slamming shut cut me off and I slouched in my seat.

      "That bitch always got some shit to say!" Trinity yelled in the speaker as she smacked loudly on a piece of gum. "Like don't nobody want her busted, broke, Bigfoot lookin' ass nigga. Why would I want him when I got nice, chocolate man of my own?! With his own money?!"

      She paced the living room as she talked, stepping over certain things because she still had yet to clean up. I sighed, closing my notebook because I knew I wasn't getting anything done.

      "The drug house on thirtieth has been coming up short for the last month Clemmons," my dad boomed over the phone as he came from the hallway and entered the kitchen. But he was talking so loud I could still hear him in the living room. "I want that bitch flipped upside down and searched. Get drug dogs to smell people, get some people to stick their hands up the pack girl's pussies, I don't give a fuck until we find out who the fuck is stealing our supply!"

      I quickly drowned out his words as I began to hum. I grabbed my notebook and began to do simple sketches, but my vibe was ruined by Trinity who hung up her phone and plopped down beside me.

      "Hey, Doll. What you drawing?" she asked, trying to peek at my paper.

      "Nothing important," I answered, still lazily dragging my pen across the paper.

      "Where your sister go?" she changed the subject.

      "I'm not sure," I sighed. "To smoke more than likely."

      "You seem bored," she noted, picking at her nails.

      "Something of the sort."

      She turned the TV on and of course it was on Family Feud. Steve Harvey's face and giant mustache filled the screen and my attention was focused on the audio while I mindlessly scribbled on the paper.

      "They say love is blind. But what might you want to look at before you marry a man?" Steve asked.

      "His finances!" Trinity yelled, piercing my ear. "Can't have no broke ass man."

      "I think you'd might want to look at his finances, Steve," the woman answered.

      "Finances! Is it on the board?!" he pointed.

       Ding!
       Applause.

      "I knew that shit!" Trinity celebrated.

      This went on until the episode ended and the commercial came on. Trinity's attention was finally back on me as she looked down as the notebook. She smacked her lips.

      "I ain't know you was religious," she said. "You should come to church with me on Sundays."

     "Excuse me?" I questioned, looking at her confused.

     She pointed at the paper and I looked down to see what I mindlessly drew.

      A cross.

      A loud knock on the door caught my attention from the peculiar drawing and I set my notebook aside to answer it. I shuffled over, pulling it open, revealing the one person in my life I didn't want to see.

      "Baby!" Andre exclaimed, a smile growing on his face. He had a giant bouquet of roses in his hand. He handed them out to me. "For you."

      I forced a smile on my face and took them from him grasp. "Thanks, Andre."

      "Aye, Andre, man!" my father shouted, coming up behind me to stand in the doorway. "I thought I heard your voice."

      They did some handshake and I focused my concentration on the roses as they talking about some work stuff. My attention wasn't pulled back to them until I heard my Dad calling my name.

      "Delilah, Andre asked you a question," he said.

      "Oh, I'm sorry. I was just looking at these gorgeous flowers," I smiled. "What did you say?"

      I knew what he was going to say.

      "I wanted to ask if you were free tomorrow night. I thought we could go out to dinner. One of them nice places downtown," he offered, cockily.

      "Oh, thank you for the offer, but I'm busy tomorrow night. I made plans with Dominique," I politely declined.... again.

      "You with Dominique everyday. You can cancel on her once," my Dad tried to salvage.

      "I can't," I shook my head. "She's helping me come up with ideas for homecoming. The other kids will be asking me about it soon and I want to make sure I'm prepared to plan it."

      "Well, maybe they should come up with something. You got a life-" my Dad began to go on a tangent, but Andre cut him off.

      "Nah, Spades, it's cool," Andre assured him, a smile still on his face. He smiles so much. More than me. It's weird. "She's a busy lady. I respect that. I'll try again later."

      "Are you sure?" my Dad asked.

      He nodded. "Fo' sho. Aye, you enjoy the roses, baby. I got some runs I need to go on, but I'll catch you at the meeting tomorrow, Spades."

      "Have a good one, man," my Dad nodded at him before Andre turned around and left in his car.

      Once he was down the street my Dad closed the door and glared at me, shaking his head. "I don't understand what's up with you, Delilah."

      "What do you mean?" I asked, watching as he stomped off to the kitchen. I followed him.

      "Andre is perfect for you. He got a lot of respect around here and he clearly loves you. Why you keep turning him down?" he asked, sitting at the table and lighting a cigarette, setting it on his lips.

      "Andre doesn't know me. How could he love me?" I questioned, setting the flowers on the counter before leaning against it.

      "Maybe he would if you ever said yes to him!" he yelled and I slightly flinched. He let out a big sigh, along with a puff of smoke.

      I knew that even if I did say yes and go on a date with Andre, whether I actually liked him or not, my Dad wouldn't care. He would force me to keep going out with him until he'd force me to marry him and have his children. It was a slippery slope and I knew if I said yes to him just once that would be the point of no return. My life being Andre's golden wife would be sealed.

      That's why I would never say yes. Nothing could ever make me say yes.

      "I don't like him, Dad," I confessed, wholeheartedly. He connected his red eyes with mine. "I don't like him at all."

      "That boy knows everything from the history of this gang to how it's run now," he emphasized, pointing towards the door as if he was still there. "He's got everything - the strength, the smarts, the manpower, the support and the money - for when OG gets got to secure his position as leader. No one is better suited for that role than him. And you need to be right next to him for the Bishop family name."

      There it was. The real reason he wanted me with Andre so badly.

      My Dad was a giant believer in legacies and their importance. He wanted the Bishops to be linked with the Clemmons as the ultimate unit of the Prophet$ until the gang war runs this city into the ground. It was never about me or my happiness, it was about power. He knew if we were together we would have more of it - we both would be stronger.

      "Have you thought that maybe I want to be the leader of something that's strictly mine one day?" I asked, tears primming my eyes.

      "You can be the leader of many things, honey," he attempted to assure me. "You could run whatever division you wanted. Drugs, capital, armory, pimp lane - whatever you want to run I don't think Andre would mind giving you the reins."

      "You know I don't like this kind of stuff - this kind of life," I uttered. "You've known me for seventeen years. You know this isn't the life for me."

      "So what?" he argued, immediately getting defensive. "You think you too good for what we do?"

     "I never said that," I defended, standing up straight. "I'm just not made for this life. Just like Mom wasn't." He still wasn't moved by reasoning and I sighed, uncrossing my arms. "Just give all of this to Joanna. She wants it and she's capable."

      "No," he shook his head, vehemently. "I want you to be in it."

     "Why?!" I raised my voice, slowly losing my patience. "Why does it always have to be me?!"

      I never got this riled up. I was always patient and understanding, but I was reaching the last straw with this topic and this conversation. It always was me - whether it was working at the gym, making him food, going to meetings I had no business being in, showing my face at parties, dating his boss's sons just so they can form a stronger alliance.

      I knew it all came from a place of favoritism and I knew Joanna would kill for my position. I felt ungrateful, but I would trade with her in an instant if I could. We were both born in each other's dream lives and it wasn't fair to either of us.

      "Because you my little girl and I wanna make sure you gonna be straight whenever it is that I get got," he answered.

      "Don't say stuff like that," I shook my head, closing my eyes trying to get the picture of my Dad dying out of my head.

     "It's the truth. My day is coming, honey. And I wanna make sure you gonna be okay when I'm gone. This is how I'm making sure you will be."

     "What about Joanna?" I asked, looking at him again. "What about making sure she's okay?"

     "She can handle her own," he replied, simply. Like she wasn't even worth the thought.

      "And you think I can't?"

      He didn't answer and that's when it hit me. The underlying reason to all of this.

      "You want me to be with Andre and get married into that family so I have someone to protect me when you're gone," I realized, talking to myself more than to him. "You don't think I can handle myself."

      He was right, but it still hurt to see my own Dad didn't think of me as enough to take care of myself. Especially after years of believing myself to be very independent and strong.

      He put his cigarette out in the ashtray and stood from his chair. He walked over to stand in front of me. He stared down at me. "Next time he asks you on a date... you accept and you fucking go, Delilah. Or else Joanna gets tossed out on her ass and you're to blame for it."

      "What?" I breathed, astonished that he would ever throw out his own blood. "I know she's not from the woman you loved, but Joanna is your child!"

      He didn't reply to me. He just walked out of the kitchen without looking back.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the next day.

"BRO, MRS. DUNNE is racist," Dominique complained, us swerving in and out of people as we walked down the hallway.

      "She's Black," I reminded her, keeping my eyes ahead of me so I didn't bump into anyone.

      "And?" she asked. "She's colorist."

      "Pretty sure you can only be colorist towards people darker than you," I stated and she sighed loudly before snapping her head towards me.

      "Can you just let me have this one thing, Delilah?!" she asked, annoyed. "Just this one! Godamn!"

      I laughed at her exasperation. "I'm just sayin', maybe you should study for tests so you don't have to accuse the teacher of being racist when you fail every time."

      "Or, I can keep failing because I know when I have to go see the student council for my academic probation my best friend can bail me out," she smiled and I rolled my eyes as we turned the corner.

      "I told you that was only once. Next time, it's suspension," I attempted to sound threatening.

      "Suuuure," she smirked knowingly at me.

      She started going into detail about another teacher she felt had a vendetta against her when Mariana walking from the opposite way caught her attention. She waved at me and I waved back as she gave Dominique a wink.

      She passed us, but we both turned to see her look back at Dominique. She tossed her hair over to the other side of her head and it must have been some secret message because Dominique instantly ran after her.

      "Where are you going?" I yelled after her.

      "Business calls! See you in sixth!" she yelled back at me, walking backwards.

      "You really need to stop skipping classes! There's attendance probation, too, Dominique!" I scolded.

      "You can tell me all about it at my house, later!" she smiled, finally turning around and chasing Mariana down the hall and out the door.

      I huffed in disappointment at my best friend as I continued down the hall to class. However, I didn't get far before I felt myself being yanked sideways inside of a room. The door slammed and locked behind me and I instantly began swinging at my kidnapper.

       "Don't touch me!" I screamed as I kept hitting the large body in the dark. "I have a rape whistle! I'll blow it! I have mace you better keep back!"

      "Delilah, yo, chill out!" a voice I recognized yelled at me.

      The lights flipped on and I looked up to see Oscar looking down at me.

      "Oscar?" I realized, slightly out of breath. "I'm sorry! Why did you pull me in here like that?"

      "I wanted to talk to you."

      I looked around at the supply closet filled with countless stacks of boxes that were ceiling high and multiple abandoned rolley chairs. My mind flashed to Dominique and Mariana and I couldn't help but think of how they probably got it on in here. I straightened up and my arms became glued to my sides as I tried to not touch anything.

      "And you couldn't talk to me in the hallway?" I asked.

      "And have it run back to the gangs that we speaking?" he asked, rhetorically. "Fuck no. Los Santos did you a favor the other day by not telling anyone because of what you did for me, but they work on a one for one system. Now they owe you nothing and will tell if they see we're still talking."

      "You're their leader. Can't you just order them to mind their business?" I wondered.

      "I'm not their leader," he shook his head.

      "Not yet," I gave him a smile. He wasn't amused and I cleared my throat awkwardly, continuing the conversation. "So what does that mean if we can't talk in public?"

      "We have to keep our friendship a secret," he said, seriously.

      I was aware of how serious he was in the moment, but that didn't stop the giant smile from spreading onto my face. "You consider us friends?"

      Even the always stoic Oscar Diaz couldn't hide the corner of his lips turning up into a small smile. "No," he shook his head, trying to remain sober.

      "Uh-uh," I held my finger up. "You can't take it back! You called us friends!" I poked him lightly in his stomach. "You wanna be my friend, Oscar Diaz?"

      He didn't even bother to try to hide it anymore as he smiled down at me. "Yeah, I wanna be your friend, Delilah Bishop."

      As I watched Oscar's dark eyes gleam in the minimal light that feeling of loneliness - that emptiness - began fading away. I could feel his presence slowly filling me up and I didn't want him to leave. I wanted him to stay with me forever until I overflowed. His scent that smelled of a mix between cigarettes and cheap cologne, his tattoos, his long eyelashes and every other mysterious, but glorious part of him spilling over the edges.

      I was a dumb, foolish girl.

      I didn't know then, but I quickly found out; everyone leaves at some point.

      "I have to go, but I'll see you sometime soon," he promised.

      "When?" I questioned, hopeful it was a time sooner than soon could ever be.

      "Soon," he repeated, his beautiful smile still on his face. "See you later, Delilah."

      "Bye Oscar," I gave him a small wave before he, reluctantly, pushed the door open and exited the closet.

      I was alone again and it felt as though someone tipped me over, all of my contents spilling out faster than it filled. I stood in the closet another minute or two before exiting and walking back into the crowded hallway.

      ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

later that day.

      "I FEEL LIKE I'M hiking through the Amazon rainforest," I commented, knocking leaves out of my way as Dominique and I walked through her home.

      "I wouldn't say the Amazon," Dominique replied, glancing back at me. "Maybe like the Atlantic forest or something. It's smaller, but still big enough to get your point across." I looked at her, surprised of her knowledge and she looked back at me, smugly. "I might skip hella classes, but I paid attention in Geography last year. That shit was interesting."

      "Fair enough."

      Dominique parents weren't the normal pair of parents you'd see in Freeridge... or anywhere, really. They were very spiritual and kept to themselves most of the time. They didn't participate or get involved in any kind of gang activity. They ran their natural medicinal and beauty store at the other end of town and went home. If anyone knew how to mind their business is was the Gardells.

      Along with minding their own business, they also lived pretty simplistic and naturally. They didn't eat any kind of sugar or meat. If it didn't grow out of the ground or from a tree, it didn't go into their bodies. When we were little, Dominique would come over to my house just so she could eat sweets in secret.

      She hid it for years, and when she finally got the courage to tell them the truth about what she ate it was very anticlimatic. They didn't care what Dominique did, just like they didn't care who she slept with.

      Along with spiritual and simplistic, they were also the most accepting and insightful people I had ever met.

      I continued pushing leaves and plants out of my way as we tracked to the back of the mobile home and my mind took me back to when Dominique and I were little and we would actually pretend we were in the Amazon. We'd drink from the rivers, track deer and jaguars, and make the snakes our pets. Dominique always wanted to catch the monkeys, but I just wanted to follow around the blue butterflies.

       We finally made it to the small yard where Dominique's parents were sitting out on the little patio, smoking a blunt. Their brown and black Beagle named Rodeo sleeping at their feet.

      When they saw us approaching giant smiles grew on their faces and Rodeo popped up.

      "Look who it is!" Dominique's Mom, Tara, exclaimed with her arms wide. "Where you been, girl? Feel like I ain't seen your ass in years."

      I leaned down and gave them both hugs before stepping back and sitting in the plastic chairs across from them. "I've been so busy with school."

      "Busy with what exactly?" her Dad, Demetrius, questioned, raising his eyebrow comically as he exhaled the smoke and passed the blunt to Tara.

      "I have to plan for Homecoming," I sighed.

      "What's there to plan?" Mrs. Gardell questioned, her mouth full of smoke. "You go to a game, then you go to a dance."

      "We need a theme and we still have to make floats for the game and we're in charge of the homecoming queen campaign," I ranted off, not even realizing just how much stuff I had to do until that moment.

      "That sounds like a lot of shit," Mr. Gardell criticized. "You getting paid for doing all this?"

      I shook my head, "No."

      "HELL NAH!" both of them yelled at the same time.

      Mrs. Gardell was shaking her head, vehemently. "Slavery is what that is."

      "I wouldn't go that far..." I looked over at Dominique who was giving me a look. "Oh my-"

      "How's your Daddy doing, sweetie?" Tara asked, finally putting out the blunt.

      I must have made a distasteful face on reflec because the next words that came out of Mrs. Gardell's mouth were, "That bad, huh?"

      "What did that mean man do now, hun?" Mr. Gardell inquired.

      All three of them were looking at me and I connected eyes with Dominique, realizing I didn't tell her about the ultimatum my Dad gave me. Truth be told, I thought if I didn't think about it it would just go away, but I knew that wasn't the truth. I knew I had to say yes.

      "He gave me an ultimatum," I confessed, my eyes staying glued to the ground.

      "Ultimatum?" Dominique repeated, confused.

      "He better not be trying to making you join that gang or I'll walk over to your house myself and-" I cut Mr. Gardell off.

      "No! Nothing like that," I stopped him, but then actually thought about it. "But also kind of yes."

      "What'd he say?" Mrs. Gardell asked.

     "He's making me go out with Andre the next time he asks me out," I sighed. "He said if I don't he's kicking Joanna out."

     They all looked at me, shocked. It was silent as they digested the information and then...

      "He can't make you do that!" Dominique yelled, standing up.

      "He would kick his own daughter out the damn house?!" Mr. Gardell screamed.

      "That shameful man ain't got no kind of honor," Mrs. Gardell declared.

      "These gangs don't give a damn about honor where it counts," Mr. Gardell shook his head.

      "I mean, I can't let him throw Joanna out," I croaked, becoming emotional. "She's my little sister and she's already been through a lot. I can't let that happen to her. I can't do that to her. I have to say yes."

      "No, you don't," Mrs. Gardell protested. "Don't let that man ruin your life just to better his."

      "I know you love your Dad and your sister, but if he really loved either of you he wouldn't be putting you in this position," Dominique said.

      "You say no and tell Joanna to come stay with us," Mr. Gardell offered.

      I shook my head, "Thanks for the offer, Mr. Gardell, but she would never go for that. She wants to stay at home."

      "Why would she want to stay with someone who is willing to kick her out without a second thought?" Dominique asked.

"You know how my sister is when it comes to my Dad," I sighed. "She's never wanted anything but his love and acceptance. If she knew he was willing to do what he said... it would break her. I don't want to see her broken."

      "So, what does that mean for you?" Dominique questioned, concerned.

      "It means I say yes."

      ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

that night.

      I COULDN'T WORK after the conversation I had with Dominique and her parents, so I just came home right after we talked about it more. They tried their hardest to come up with other options that saved both Joanna and I, but nothing was enough. I knew they genuinely cared and I would bet they were at home still trying to come up with a plan, but I had already lost hope.

      I was sitting in my bed still trying to come up with ideas when Joanna finally got home since I didn't get anything done with Dominique like originally planned.

      My head snapped up, seeing her stumble into the room. She closed the door, quietly before turning around and noticing me with her bloodshot eyes. A giant, goofy smile on her face. She was high.

      "Hey," I greeted as she put her bag down.

      "Hiii," she giggled, giving me a little wave.

      The corners of my mouth lifted up into a small, quick smile. She dropped her skateboard on the floor and then slipped off her gym shoes, almost falling over in the process because she didn't hold onto anything. She went into her drawer and pulled out pajamas before changing into them.

      However, this time she did actually fall over - right onto my bed. That's when I smelled the alcohol on her. She was high and drunk. She gave me a half-attentive apology before pulling herself up, but she fell down again. I knew I'd have to help her into her bed, but I had a question I needed to ask her first.

      "Joanna," I spoke and she stopped trying to pull herself up before looking over at me.

      "Hmm?" she hummed, resting her head against the bed pole as she struggled to keep her eyes open.

      "Can you sober up for a second to answer a question for me?" I asked.

      She lazily nodded and I could see her trying to keep her eyes open. I had a feeling that's all she could do, so I took what I could get and continued. "Do you think I can handle my own?" I questioned, slightly afraid of her answer. "Like protect myself?"

      "Mmm," she hummed for a few seconds before shaking her head, "No."

      I looked down at my floral blanket, sadly. Knowing that they both thought this of me hurt. I knew it was true, but it didn't hurt nonetheless. If I couldn't protect myself in a city like Freeridge, then what was my purpose? I couldn't protect me or my loved ones, I couldn't stick up for myself.

      I was a sitting duck waiting to be kidnapped and used against people like my Dad who could fight and hold his own. I was a liability. Nothing else but a piece of arm candy for the men - men like Andre - who could do everything I couldn't.

      "But that's just like..." she paused, trying to think of the word. "It's like... physical." Her words came out slow and drawled as she talked.

       "What do you mean?" I asked, unsure of where she was going with this.

      "Like... you maybe suck at fighting and physically protecting yourself, buuuut you're suuper diplomantic," she added, her eyes getting lower and lower as she talked.

      My eyebrows crinkled together in confusion. "Do you mean diplomatic?"

      She raised her arm and pointed at me, another goofy smile on her face. "Yeah, that!"

      "What does diplomacy have anything to do with protecting myself?" I inquired, not understanding her point.

       "It's like..." she paused again, "Maybe you can't fight because you're pretty weak and you don't have any street smarts because you stay off the streets and you never really know what's going on like... ever, but you're real diplomatic."

      "I'm still not sure what you mean."

      "Remember last year when those geeks from school were in that fight about that one thing?" she asked, her eyes completely closed now as she talked.

      I racked my brain trying to think of what she was talking about. Then, it dawned on me. "You mean chess and origami club?"

      "Yeah! Those dorks!" she remembered, laughing at them.

      "Yeah, they both wanted the same room after school to hold their clubs in," I said.

      "And they came to you because student council or whatever and you worked it out between them," she slurred. "So like, maybe you can't fight, but you protect yourself using other ways. Like diplomantic stuff - working out deals and... stuff."

      I thought about what she said and I could see her point. Maybe I can't beat up someone else, but if the situation ever arose I could maybe broker a deal with my kidnappers or smooth talk my way out of the situation. It wasn't ideal since most people, especially the ones around here, didn't care for talking - it was just capture and kill. But her words still made me feel better.

      "I see that," I nodded, finally understanding what she meant. "Thanks, Joanna."

      I looked over at her to see she was now completely knocked out, her head leaning on the bed pole and her mouth open. Looking at her so peaceful and innocent I couldn't help but be filled with love and admiration for my little sister.

      She deserved so much better. She deserved all the love in the world, as far as I was concerned. I knew if my Mom was still around she'd love her like her own. I just didn't understand why my Dad couldn't do the same.

      I stood up from my bed and laid her down, covering her with my blanket before turning the light off and climbing to the top bunk for the night.

      As I listened to her light snoring that I had gotten accustomed to hearing in the otherwise quiet and dark room I knew I couldn't let my Dad kick her out. I could never forgive myself if I let that happen. I was her big sister and it was my job to take care of her.

      And if pretending to love Andre was what it took to do that, then that's what I was going to do.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ author's note ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

the love delilah has for her little sister making a bitch cry rn

and dominique's parents are my dream parents if i'm being honest

also, delilah's dad deserves to choke.

(i added carol, samuel & judge julie's faceclaims/aesthetics to the character page since we will be seeing them a lot. go check them out!)

delilah waking up everyday feeling lonely & sad

teacher: *breathes*
dominique:

delilah's dad: you're gonna go out with andre or joanna gets tossed out on her ass
y'all: - and i oop