Layla POV

"Good morning mom." I greeted walking down the steps.

She looked over at me. "Good morning sweet heart how are you?" She said happily.

"I'm fine." I told her, blandly.

"Well my day is going fine your fathe-"

Well, while my mom is blabbering to me about how her day is going let me give you some Insight as to why I hate it here.

Yes I said it, I hate it here. I'm not fine at all, I just didn't feel like playing a billion questions with my mom if I told her how I really felt about this shit hole. It's terrible in Kenya.

You see, I was going to apply for a job, get my moms permission to leave blah, blah, blah. but things went south really quick.

~Flashback ~

Layla POV

I walked in on my mother sitting peacefully on the floor, reading one of her favorite novels. She quickly set it to the side when she say the vast amounts of worry that spread on my face.

"Mom, can I tell you something?" I asked, anticipated for her answer. I twiddled my thumbs afraid of her answer.

"Sure sweetie, you can tell me anything, I won't tell a soul." She swore.

That's funny, considering you don't believe in Christ.

I rubbed the back of my neck before talking. "Well I wanted to tell you that I don't like it here, and I want your permission to leave." I confessed.

My mom stared at me blankly, all the color left her face and the only think I could think was-

What have I done?

After her little shock episode she raised her hands to my face and smacked me.

I winced in pain as I felt the hotness form of my face from the impact. "Ouch! What the fuck ma?!" I cried as I put my cold hand on my face.

She rolled her eyes crossing her arms. "Don't curse at me Layla! I don't need your shit." She clicked her teeth before continuing. " For the the first and last time, your not leaving. That's final! This is where your family is, this is your culture. You can't just abandon it. What the fuck is your problem?" She screamed at me; clearly agitated with my choice of words.

My eyes bulged at her choice of words."My problem?! My problem is that Kenya is shit, we are beyond poor, and we don't have anything! Dad is always gone, and now I can't even get you on my side. " I screamed growing more and more upset.

She clearly didn't sympathize what I said, she seemed annoyed actually. "It's not like you didn't deserve it! Go to your room Layla! I don't want to look at your disgraceful face at the moment" she spat coldly.

Who knew that your own mom could be this shady.

"Go to hell mom." I mumbled as I marched into my room.

~Flashback ends~

These are only a few reasons as to why I hate it here, well now that I told you a few things, let's get back to what my mom is talking to me about.

"My day is going fine, your father got me this wonderful cape made out of the most beautiful fur." She rambled.

"Wow, I can't believe you actually saw the man considering he isn't here 99.9% of the time." I smiled sarcastically.

"You always got some negative stuff to say, don't you?" She huffed.

"Mom it's not negative, it's the truth." I told her truthfully.

I can't believe she is oblivious to the fact that my dad is cheating on her. And it's with her sister.

"Mom, dad sure does hang out with your sister a lot." I told said, in hopes of clueing her.

"Oh yes, I know. They are great friends. I'm glad I introduced them." She said, completely unaware.

I'm giving her all the damn hints.

"Oh yes, that's wonderful. Well that's good, I forgot your sisters name. What is it?" I asked.

I really didn't care honestly.

"It's Maria. How can you forget your own aunts name Layla?" She questioned.

"We never really spoke to each other." I spoke truthfully.

"Why is that Hun?" She said while starting to prepare the proper Kenyan breakfast.

"I don't know. " I lied

Maybe because she is a conniving snake.

"Okay?" She said unconvinced. This lady can read me like a book.

"Start setting up the table okay?" She ordered.

"Alright." I said

I obeyed and I started to place down the colorful bright placemats on our table. As I was doing so, I used the time to think about ways I could get to America without disturbing my mother.

I sat down the cold glass cups and observed my mother place down the meal we were going to eat.

The food looks extravagant. It is African toast, chapati, African greens, and cabbage with curry powder and royco. It's a very vivid breakfast. The smells are intoxicating, this aroma is filling my nostrils with delight and bliss.

Look at me, sounding like a poet. That's what this food does to you.

"The food smells great mom! Oh my goodness, how did you finish this is a span of 30 minutes?" I uttered, completely amazed.

"Mommy magic. They call me M.M! Like the rapper in America." She told me.

"Please stop, for the love of god stop." I sighed getting embarrassed for her.

What the hell is this woman thinking.

"Okay, okay, I'm trying to get heep." She said.

Damn, her thick accent.

"It's hip, hip, mom. and that's so 1990." I spat, unpleased at her attempt to be cool.

"Okay geez." She said, flaring her arms up in surrender.

"Speaking of America I thought that maybe you can conside-" She cut me off before I could finish my sentence.

"Stop it-." She said with a mouth full of cabbage

"I am not going to start this conversation, I'm ending it with a big fat hell no" she stated.

"Mom, wait I have opportunities there please just let me expl-" She cut me off again.

"Uh uh uh, unless you want me to pop your ass again, I suggest you hush." She told me, reminding me of those events.

Someone is turning into a hood rat, she watches too much bad girls club at her friends house, she can't even watch tv at her own house. Why?

Because we're broke as hell.

"Fine whatever, I'm leaving. Going into my room." I said, walking up the stairs.

"Go right ahead, I'm not stopping to you." She told me, rolling her eyes.

"Bitch." I mumbled. As I headed up the stairs, I was stopped by her annoying voice.

"What did you say? I will beat you with a wooden spoon and feed you to a pack of damn lions. Go up those stairs without a word, you hear me?" She demanded.

"Yes ma'am." I said dumbfounded.

When I finally made it to my room, I shut the door, being careful not the slam it, because that elephant will stampede into my room.

"What should I do?" I asked myself.

Then it finally hit me.

I can go to work at the produce store that my dads punk ass brother owns. Shabby, I know. But it's better than nothing. Now I can finally get enough money to get a plane ticket to get the hell out of here.

Might as well sleep the rest of the morning away.

I set my alarm for 3:30pm. I closed my smelly jagged blinds so I can block out the sun and I lied down.

Finally.

My plan is now in motion.