From Ratchet to Riches

by Patrice Balark

  From Ratchet To Riches

  A Hood Love Tale

  Patrice Balark

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Untitled

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  To Be Continued

  Mailing List

  From Ratchet To Riches

  Copyright © 2019 by Patrice Balark

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States of America.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, please contact: www.authortwylat.com.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance of actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is a crime punishable by law. No part of the e-book may be scanned, uploaded to or downloaded from file sharing sites, or distributed in any other way via the Internet or any other means, electronic, or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to five years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000 (www.fbi.gov/ipr/).

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  Published by Twyla T. Presents, LLC.

  Created with Vellum

  1

  “Mecca, get yo fast ass out here right now and fix them something to eat.” Ms. Young yelled over the loud music.

  “I swear to God, I hate that bitch.” Mecca mumbled under her breath as she threw the covers off of her, planting her feet on the cold floor underneath her.

  “Ohhhhh I heard you and I’m telling momma what you said!” Yana, her younger sister, threatened before attempting to run out the bedroom.

  Mecca’s quick reflexes caught the tail end of her shirt, pulling her back, causing her to fly across the room and hitting the floor.

  “Ahhhhhhhhhhh!” Yana yelled out in pain, aiding her now bleeding elbow.

  “Look Yana, if you don’t tell mommy, I’ll buy you some candy from Mr. Reed’s store when he opens.” Mecca tried bribing her little sister.

  “Girl, with what? You ain’t got no money.” Yana replied, standing to her feet and dusting off her Mermaid nightgown.

  “I don’t but…”

  “Mommmmmyyyyyyyy!” She yelled out at the top of her lungs.

  “Ok. Ok. Ok… Look, I’ll get you some candy, just chill.” Mecca pleaded.

  Yana gave Mecca a look as if to say that she knows she is lying but kept her mouth closed anyway.

  “Why the fuck she always calling you?” Yana asked, taking a seat on the old twin size bed.

  “Cause I’m y’all momma, that bitch don’t do shit around here but get high and drunk.” Mecca fumed, slipping on the purple robe that was hanging on the door.

  “What you say little bitch?”

  The door swung open, hitting Mecca on the bridge of her nose. Melissa Young stood at the door, looking like she was ready for war. Although she was only 31, she looked to be in her late 40’s. Melissa got pregnant with Mecca at 12, giving birth to Mecca on her 13th birthday, and Melissa’ life after that had been nothing short of terrible. Melissa followed up with her second child, Danielle, at the age of 14. Having two kids at fifteen was no walk in the park, which is why Mecca and Danielle was raised by their grandmother Madea until she passed away almost two years ago. Melissa got custody of her two oldest, and along with her two youngest, Yana and Coby, they stayed in a small two-bedroom apartment on the Westside of Chicago. Life with Madea wasn’t the best, but it consisted of always having hot meals, warm beds, and roach-free cereal. Whereas living with Melissa was the complete opposite.

  “I said what the fuck you say hoe?” Melissa yelled again; this time swinging and hitting Mecca on the right side of her face.

  “I didn’t say anything Melissa.” She lied, holding onto her stinging skin.

  “Yes, the fuck you did and what I tell you about calling me Melissa!” She screamed, this time fully attacking Mecca.

  Mecca fell unto the bed and curled up in the fetal position, protecting her face from potential blows.

  “You… think…. you….all…. that….. huh? You…. think….you….better…. than….me?” Melissa asked, landing blows between every word.

  “Mommy stoppppp!” Yana cried but her cries went unheard.

  Mecca laid there taking the hits, silently praying that they would stop. It seemed as if God heard her prayers because seconds later, Danielle ran into the room and pulled Melissa off her.

  “Don’t you fuckn touch me!” Melissa screamed, yanking away from her second oldest.

  “I’m not finna sit here and let you beat up my sister.” Danielle yelled back.

  “Oh, so you bitches gon’ try to jump me?” Melissa replied, her eyes red from all the liquor and drugs she’s been consuming.

  “Girl ain’t nobody finna jump you.” Danielle replied, waving her off.

  “I’m sick of you bitches. Y’all think y’all so grown? Y’all can get the fuck outta my house!” She yelled out at the top of her lungs before walking out the door.

  Figuring the coast was clear, Mecca stood to her feet and fixed her robe. She looked around the room at her siblings as they all had tears in their eyes.

  “Come here y’all.” She requested, pulling Yana and Coby, who had woken up, into a hug.

  “Don’t cry, I’m going to fix y’all something to eat.” Mecca stated, consoling her younger sister and brother.

  Yana was nine and Coby was five, both old enough to understand what was going on. Mecca hated that her siblings lived the life they were living. They were good kids who deserved a good upbringing but fucking around with Melissa, things would never be that way.

  Once she heard the music stop and the front door close, Mecca walked out of the room into the dirty hallway. There was trash in the middle of the floor while dirty clothes occupied the entrance into the kitchen. Dirty dishes damn near pilled to the ceiling and week-old food was still on the table.

  “Mecca, we don’t have any milk.” Coby soft voice said from the refrigerator.

  “It’s ok big boy. I’ll find y’all something.” Mecca replied, picking him up and placing him on her hip.

  “You got some money?” Danielle asked from the doorway.

  “Hell nah but I’m about to go see if Kay and nem got some milk. I’ll be back.”

  Mecc
a placed Coby back on his feet before slipping on her shoes and heading out the door. The sun beamed down on her forehead as soon as she hit the porch. It was June in Chicago, which meant hot, muggy heat. Yeah, the wind was blowing, but it was blowing hot air, only making matters worse. Mecca scoped out the block before taking off down the stairs and two doors over to her best friend Kay’s house. Kay and Mecca had been best friends since kindergarten. They grew up in the same neighborhood; even when Mecca was living with Madea, Kay was only a block away. Kay was the calm to Mecca’s storm; they were like day and night yet so close that people thought they were family.

  “What up Mecca?” Darrius, Kay’s big brother, spoke as she walked onto the porch.

  “What up? Kay in there?” She asked, wiping a few trickles of sweat off of her forehead.

  “Yeah, the door open.” He informed her.

  Mecca entered Kay’s home; the cool air from the central air smacked her in the face, making her want to collapse on the carpet and suck it up. The smell of bacon, pancakes, and biscuits caused her stomach to growl. She looked around the empty front room before heading to the back where Kay’s room was located. Mecca stopped at the closed door, which had a huge pink “K” hanging on it and knocked.

  “Who is it?” Kay’s voice sang from the other side.

  “It’s me!” Mecca replied, not waiting for permission before she entered.

  “Hey best friend.” Kay beamed as she sat Indian style in the middle of her bed with her laptop in front of her.

  “Hey best friend. What you doing?” Mecca asked, flopping down on the bed next to her.

  “Girl filling out this information for college. Have you turned yours in yet?” Kay inquired.

  “Girl, I would love to go to college but…..”

  “But nothing. Mecca, you make straight A’s and you got accepted to every single college you applied to.” Kay said, cutting her off.

  “I know but…”

  “Here you go with the “buts” again. Mecca, you always say how you don’t want to end up like your mom but here you are limiting yourself.” Kay preached.

  “I know. I know but my sisters and brother are depending on me. I can’t be there for them from another state.” Mecca replied.

  “Ok so don’t go away. You got accepted into Loyola, Northwestern, University of Chicago, and DePaul. Pick one of those.”

  Mecca wanted to go to college more than anything. She graduated with a 4.0 GPA and was even Valedictorian of her class. However, the way life was set up for her, she knew that her education wouldn’t go further than high school.

  “Ok, Imma check it out.” She lied just to silence her best friend.

  “Good, so what’s the tea?” Kay asked, closing her laptop and giving Mecca her undivided attention.

  “Girl nothing. I came over to see if y’all had some milk.”

  “Yeah we do, come on.” She replied, getting out of the bed and heading to the kitchen.

  Once they reached the kitchen, Kay’s mom Vicki and her husband Ross was dancing in the middle of the floor to whatever music was in their heads. Both of the girls smiled and looked on until they were spotted.

  “Hey daughters!” Vicki smiled as Ross dipped her low.

  “Hey ma!” Mecca spoke happily.

  “What’s up y’all?” Ross asked, wrapping his arms around his wife.

  “Mecca came over to get some milk.” Kay responded to her parents.

  “Milk? We got all this food and you want some cereal?” Vicki asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “Well, it’s my sisters and brother, they hungry.” Mecca replied truthfully.

  “You know them my babies too. Go grab them while I make their plates.” Vicki smiled as she headed over towards the stove.

  Mecca sprinted out the door and back towards her house when she noticed a group of people out front in a circle. The closer she got, she recognized her mom’s voice. Mecca pushed her way through the crowd, only to find her mom arguing with two females. From the conversation, Mecca could gather that the argument involved money and a man. Although Melissa was out numbered, she didn’t back down. She actually grew a larger set of balls once she noticed her first born wasn’t far away.

  “We should beat yo ass.” The skinny one with the red hair yelled, pointing her finger in Mecca’s mom’s face.

  It was obvious that Mecca and Melissa didn’t have a good relationship, but she’ll be damn’d if she allowed anyone to disrespect her family, so she stepped in.

  “First of all bitch, you not finna beat shit, and secondly, if y’all wanna square up, then what up?”

  Melissa looked at her daughter and smiled; that was all the courage she needed to swing first, which she did. Before either of them knew it, they were in a full blown two-on-two fight until Danielle appeared out of nowhere, swinging. The sound of police sirens made the crowd disburse. Mecca went over and pulled Danielle off of the woman with the red hair. The both of them then went over and stopped their mother from throwing blows.

  Everything had happened so quickly that by the time the police was pulling up, they were closing the front door. This was a regular routine for them. Melissa got into some bullshit and her daughters bailed her out. The shit was getting old and both Mecca and Danielle were fed up.

  “You a better bitch than me. I would have let them jump her, she was just kicking yo ass earlier.” Danielle reminisced, flopping down on the old dirty brown couch in their living room.

  “Girl, you know like I know, I could beat Melissa’s ass blindfolded but like Madea used to say…..”

  “Each day you disrespect your parent, God shortens your time on this Earth.” They both said in unison as Danielle rolled her eyes.

  “Exactly. Now get Yana and Coby dressed so they can eat. I have to find a way to put some food in this house.” Mecca said to her younger sister.

  2

  As soon as the front door slammed, Danielle ran into the bedroom that she shared with her three siblings, closed and locked the door behind her. She was hungrier than a hostage, but she knew going next door to Kay’s house would cause more problems. Danielle sat on the deflated air mattress that was near the window and buried her face into her hands. She missed Madea. She always wished that God had taken her mother instead. She hated Melissa with every bone in her body. If it wasn’t for Mecca, she probably would have beat her mother’s ass a long time ago, but her sister wouldn’t let anyone disrespect Melissa when she was the most disrespectful creature on God’s green Earth. Danielle admired Mecca; not only was she her big sister, she was her best friend as well. Danny didn’t have many friends because most of the kids at school was too busy teasing her, which was why she got suspended seven times in the last school year. Fighting had become second nature to the Williams sisters. If they weren’t fighting their own battles, they were fighting each other’s and, in some cases, their mother’s too.

  Danielle and her siblings didn’t wear the latest fashions. They weren’t able to get their hair and nails done like most girls their age. They were called dirty and poor on a daily basis, which resulted in insecurities for the young women. Neither Danielle nor Mecca was ugly; they were just less fortunate. Each girl stood about five-foot-five and weighed the same, about one-hundred and forty pounds. Unlike Mecca, Danielle wasn’t curvy; she was shaped straight up and down like a pencil. That’s what most of her classmates called her, Pencil, and that resulted into most of them getting their ass beat. Danielle was medium dark while Mecca was a few shades lighter than her. Both girls had a head full of curly hair that they got from Melissa’s side.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  The three knocks on the door snapped Danielle out of her trance. A huge lump formed in her throat before she could answer it. She looked over at the wooden door and watched as whoever was on the other end turned the knob, but it was locked.

  “What the fuck I tell y’all about locking doors in my house?” Dame’s deep voice, Melissa’s boyfriend, could be heard from the other sid
e.

  “I’m getting dressed.” She lied, standing to her feet.

  “That’s what the bathroom for, now open this fucking door.” He banged.

  Danielle walked her small frame over towards the door as Dame continued to twist and turn the knob from his end. She reached her hand out to open it and noticed she was shaking.

  “Get it together Danny, you know the routine, it should be over soon.” She coached herself as she unlocked the door.

  As soon as the locked clicked, Dame barged in the room and grabbed Danielle by her throat. He pushed her further in the room and closed the door with his foot. Danielle gasped for air, but she was no match for Dame’s three-hundred pounds. Throwing her on the bed, he climbed on top of her and began fondling her breast. She usually fought back but Dame rapping her had become a sick routine and sadly, she was used to it.

  “Ohhhh so you like it now huh? Bitch ain’t even fighting back. I bet that lil pussy wet.” He spoke, the cigarettes on his breath invaded her nostrils.

  Dame had been violating Danielle for almost three months. It started one day when everyone was sleep. Dani got up, went to the bathroom, and he was lying on the couch wasted. When she walked passed him, he grabbed her and raped her right there on the couch. Dame threatened to kill the whole family if she told, which she strongly believed he would do.

  Dame was what the streets called a bully. He had most of the hood scared. He would easily put you in mind of Debo off Friday; he knew who to pull that sucker shit with and who not to try.