Cover Girl

by Brittani Williams

  Brooklyn often found herself walking around just to get some air. This day, as she walked across the small bridge, she looked out into the water and thought about ending it all. Again, she thought about how much better off everyone would be without her.

  She stood looking over the gate into the water, and after a few more moments of sulking, she suddenly climbed the gate and jumped into the cold water, breaking through the thin-layered sheet of ice that covered it.

  Brooklyn woke up was and found herself in a hospital bed. She looked around the room and noticed Stacey sitting in a chair on the opposite side of the room. She sat up slowly, feeling disoriented.

  “Girl, if you ever scare me like that again, I’ll kill you!” Stacey laughed. “What the hell were you thinking?”

  “Honestly, I was just thinking how I didn’t want to be here anymore.” She felt a tear streaming down her face. “I don’t know why God keeps sparing me, Stacey. I just want it to be over.”

  “He keeps sparing you, because it’s not your time. You can try to kill yourself in a million different ways, but if He’s not ready for you, you’ll still be here, Brooklyn. We all have a purpose in life, regardless of how blinded we may be. You just have to try and push through the heartache to see it. I mean, look at us—You hated me once, and we’ve become best friends again. I know you can get through anything.”

  Brooklyn looked up at Stacey and realized how wise she’d become over the years. She’d matured much more than she had. She was glad she had someone like her around to look out for her when things were bad.

  Stacey looked down at her friend and remembered the vibrant girl she once was. She realized she had to fight for both of them if Brooklyn was going to make it through. She hated seeing her so depressed. Instead of drilling her with more insight, she decided to climb in bed with her and hold her hand.

  “Do you remember when we were young? I think we were about nine or ten, and you had that little dog that would never stop barking. Well, I remember the day the dog got hit by a car and you cried and cried, thought your life was over. Then, come to find out, it wasn’t even your dog.” Stacey laughed. “I was right there holding your hand, girl, and I’m still here for you.”

  Brooklyn lay next to Stacey, barely awake, tears slowly falling from her eyes. She realized how much Stacey cared for her. If she ever needed a reason to fight and get better, she had one now.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  One More Chance 1997

  The street was dark and quiet as Brooklyn crept down the small block. Everyone seemed fast asleep. She had a plan to execute that night—Climb into the first open window and take any valuables in sight. She’d rarely stolen from a stranger, but it was becoming harder to get things from her relatives, since most of them wouldn’t leave her in a room alone in their houses.

  She noticed a window halfway open. After cutting the screen, she took a look inside to make sure no one was occupying the room. Comfortable that the coast was clear, she stuck one leg in at a time and stepped on to the carpet. She began rummaging through the things she saw lying around in plain view. Nothing of value here.

  She opened drawers and finally found a watch and a few dollars inside the desk, which was off to the far side of the wall. Walking to the opposite side of the room, she spotted a wallet, but just as she prepared to grab it, she saw a light come on in the rear of the house. She quickly ran toward the window to attempt to climb out.

  A male voice yelled, “You muthafucka!” The man had a gun pointed in her direction.

  She was struggling to get out of the window when she felt a burning in her leg. She fell out of the window and hit the ground hard. She’d been shot, and the pain was unbearable. She tried to crawl away, but the owner ran out of the house and was standing over her as she lay there in agony.

  “You think you can steal from me and get away with it? You fucking crackhead! I should kill your ass for disrespecting me!” he screamed, the gun pointed in her face.

  Brooklyn shook her head, her hands covering her face, hoping he wouldn’t shoot her again. She could feel the blood pouring out of her leg, which was getting more numb by the second. She said a silent prayer, thinking her life was about to come to an end.

  The man walked away and entered his home, where he dialed the police to report what had just occurred.

  Brooklyn turned onto her stomach and tried to pull herself away from the house, afraid that he’d come back out and shoot her again. She’d left a trail of blood down the street to where she managed to drag herself.

  Within five minutes the police arrived and the ambulance thereafter. Brooklyn, by that point, had passed out from the tremendous loss of blood. They put her into the ambulance and carted her off to the hospital as a Jane Doe, because she had no identification.

  She was taken into surgery as soon as she arrived at the hospital. The bullet had shattered her left tibia, and the surgeons decided to insert a metal rod into her leg to repair it. Her rehabilitation would require months of physical therapy.

  Brooklyn woke up, looking around, trying to figure out where she was, and what the hell happened to her. Her leg was suspended in the air and completely wrapped up, and her arm handcuffed to the bed. She thought for sure it was a nightmare.

  Confused as to why, again, her life had been spared, she thought, What the hell am I supposed to be doing?

  An Asian nurse entered the room a few moments later to check Brooklyn’s vital signs and noticed she was awake. “How are you feeling?” she asked.

  “Like shit! What did they do to my leg?”

  “You had surgery. Your leg was shattered from the gunshot wound. Now that you’re awake, I need to get some information from you. You didn’t have any ID on you, so we couldn’t contact anyone on your behalf.”

  “My name is Brooklyn ... Brooklyn Johnson. And please don’t call anyone. I don’t want anyone to see me like this.”

  “No problem, Ms. Johnson. I’ll go get the rest of the forms to fill out. Do you need anything else from me while I’m going out?”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  Brooklyn looked out into the hallway and spotted a police officer talking to the nurse who had just walked out of the room. She’d already figured that she was under arrest for breaking into the man’s house. She thought about calling Stacey, who she knew would be worried sick about her, but she wasn’t prepared for the speech that would come with it. She also knew that if she didn’t call her, she’d be furious. She was fighting with herself because she wasn’t sure whether or not she’d be able to stand the look of disappointment on Stacey’s face.

  A few hours later, she decided to call her. She felt that, in the event things got worse, at least the one person who fought for her would know about it.

  Stacey arrived at the hospital an hour later.

  “Girl, we have to stop meeting like this—I can’t stand hospitals. Girl, what the hell happened? Your leg is jacked up?”

  “I got shot, girl. They say my leg was completely shattered.”

  “So that means you gonna be a cripple and shit?” Stacey laughed. “I’m just joking, girl. But damn! Where the hell were you? I told you stop trying to cop without me.”

  “Well, hey, if I hadn’t, it would’ve probably been you in the bed next to me, so I’m glad I did.”

  “Shit. You could’ve been dead. I told you I’m not ready for you to leave me yet, all right. I brought you something too.” She looked over her shoulder to watch out for the officer before going in her pocket and retrieving a small bag of cocaine.

  “What am I gonna do with that, with the damn watchdog out there?”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll distract him. Here, take it. I know you need it.” Stacey passed her the bag before turning to walk to the door.

  As Stacey flirted with the cop, Brooklyn opened the bag, scooped out some with her fingernail, and snorted it. After doing this routine four times, she closed the bag and stuck it under her pillow, coughing to signal Stacey.


  After a few minutes she felt like herself. She always got depressed when she wasn’t under the influence of drugs. It was those times when she thought about taking her own life. Stacey had come in and saved the day once again and made sure to be there through her rehab as well.

  Luckily Brooklyn was able to skip going to jail, since she didn’t have any priors. So it wasn’t long before she was home. She knew it wouldn’t be long before the call of the streets pulled her back in.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  A New Day 1998

  “Brooklyn, is that you?” Mesa yelled as she spotted Brooklyn walking toward her mom’s house.

  Feeling ashamed, Brooklyn tried to turn away, but Mesa pulled over and jumped out of her car. Brooklyn’s hair was all over the place, her clothing was loose and torn in different areas, and she walked with a limp.

  “Brooklyn! It’s me, Mesa!”

  “I know,” she said dryly.

  “Oh my gosh! I thought you were dead. I ride by here all the time when I’m in the city, hoping I’ll run into you,” she said, looking at her once beautiful prospect. She was sad that she hadn’t been able to protect her. “How have you been?”

  “How does it look like I’ve been?” she asked.

  Brooklyn hadn’t spoken to Mesa in years. She could only feel that if they’d given her just one more shot, her life wouldn’t have gotten so out of control. At one point she felt like Mesa was family, but she also felt betrayed when Mesa no longer supported her.

  Mesa looked at her and wanted so badly to help to make up for not being there years ago when she really needed her. “Can I take you to grab something to eat? I just want to talk and catch up.”

  Brooklyn looked her up and down. She noticed her name-brand shoes and expensive clothes. She realized it could’ve been her in that attire, and not the old sweats and sneakers. She wondered what she’d accomplish by going to eat with her. But then she thought that Mesa probably felt guilty, and if nothing else, she might leave with a few dollars in her pocket.

  “OK, I’ll go.”

  “Great. Hop in.” Mesa smiled and walked around to the driver’s side of the car.

  The two headed over to a small restaurant and sat down. Most of the patrons looked at the duo, mainly Brooklyn, and wondered how the hell they even knew each other. Brooklyn was unfazed, only anxious to get the meeting over with so she could get out of there and head to her destination.

  “First, I want to start by apologizing to you. I feel so bad about the way things turned out for you. I feel like I should’ve done more.”

  “Let me stop you right there, because I don’t need your sympathy. I didn’t come here for that.”

  “I’m sorry if I offended you, but that was something I’ve wanted to say for years, and I’ve finally gotten a chance to do so. I remember the day I first saw you. You reminded me so much of myself. Trust and believe, I made all of the same mistakes that you did, even with the drugs, but I had someone there to support me. And that’s where I failed with you.”

  “So what’s the point? I mean, all of this reminiscing is depressing. We both know that none of this shit matters because now I’m just a run-down drug addict. It’s nothing that you can do for me. I’m over. Any career that I had is long gone, so what is it that you want from me?”

  “I just want to be there for you. If you need anything, I want you to be able to pick up the phone and know that I’m there.”

  “Sounds good, but the reality is, you weren’t there for me before. So why would you be there for me now?”

  “Because this is a new me, Brooklyn. I’m trying to do right. I feel like your downfall was my fault. You wouldn’t have ever been a model without me, and you would have never met Natasha if it weren’t for me either. Which means you probably would’ve never started doing drugs if it weren’t for me.”

  “Well, I guess we’ll never know, will we? And speaking of Natasha, how is she?”

  Mesa paused, knowing what she was going to say next wouldn’t be taken well.

  Brooklyn sat there staring at her, waiting for her reply, feeling like something was wrong.

  “She died, Brooklyn. Over a year ago she died from an overdose.”

  Brooklyn laughed. She didn’t truly believe that Mesa was telling the truth. After a few seconds, she realized that Mesa’s facial expression hadn’t changed.

  “Why didn’t anyone tell me? I mean, damn, she was one of my best friends, and I wasn’t even told about the funeral.”

  “I tried to find you, Brooklyn, I really did. I went to your mom’s house. I thought it was abandoned. I didn’t have any way to contact you, so I figured I would tell you once I was able to sit down and talk to you face to face.”

  “I just can’t believe it. She was doing so good. I thought she quit, and she was still getting high.” Brooklyn shook her head in disbelief.

  The waitress came to the table to take their order. Brooklyn ordered enough food to take some home. After hearing the bad news about her friend, she was in no mood to eat.

  “So when you say anything, do you really mean anything ?”

  “Yes, just let me know what you need.”

  “If you could help me out with a few dollars, that would help a lot.”

  “If you promise me that you’ll use it for something other than drugs, no problem. I’m just really trying to help you, Brooklyn. I want to see you get back on your feet.

  “Well, I appreciate that.” Brooklyn realized she had to play the game if she wanted the money she needed. “I mean, believe me, I hated your guts. I’ve been let down by everyone in my life—my father, mother, men, and then you. I really depended on you. I can honestly agree with you on something.”

  “What’s that?”

  “That it was your fault.”

  Mesa sat there staring at Brooklyn. She didn’t expect her to be so honest. “I can respect that, Brooklyn, and I’m so glad that you’re able to be honest.”

  “Honest is definitely me.”

  “Well, again, I’m here to help, so whatever you need, just let me know.”

  After they left the restaurant, Mesa gave Brooklyn her business card as she dropped her off, and two hundred dollars, which was much more than she expected. She couldn’t wait to get back to Stacey to show her.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Decisions 2000

  Two years later Brooklyn was still doing her thing. She hadn’t found anything worth changing for. Even looking at all of the damage she’d done to herself couldn’t change anything. Inside she felt nothing, and as many times as you’d tell her how she’d ruined her life and those around her, she remained the same. As many times as she’d faced death, she still hadn’t figured out her purpose.

  Recently she had been spending time with her daughter, trying to be there for her. She’d started seeing in her some of the same things that she saw in herself.

  It was a Saturday, which was normally the day they spent together, and Brooklyn was dressed and ready to go see her when she realized that Stacey wasn’t feeling good. While Sasha sat patiently waiting for her, she was home playing nurse for her best friend. By the time she made it over to her mom’s, Sasha was asleep. Her mother Janice wasn’t too happy because she had to sit for an hour soothing Sasha until she actually fell asleep.

  “What the hell are you here for?” Janice sipped her drink.

  “To see my children. I’m damn sure not here to see you.”

  “Your children are asleep. You know I sat for an hour trying to console her. Why the fuck you even bother, if you aren’t going to stand by what you say?”

  “Like you have room to talk. What do you know about being a mother? Hell, I remember being more of a mother to the boys than you ever were.”

  “Maybe, but now that you have your own, you ain’t shit! You had them for what reason? All you did was dump them on me.”

  “I’m surely not going to sit here and explain myself to you. Where is Sasha? I’m done with this conversation.”
>
  “You’re not done. You’re in my house, remember?”

  “House? Is that what four walls make?”

  “You know what? Fuck you, Brooklyn! You always talking shit about me, and you ain’t nothing but a fiend. You think your kids don’t know what you do? Imagine how they feel when people ask about you. You ever think about that? I don’t give a damn how you feel about me, but you need to care about them. You see what happened to you.”

  As much as Brooklyn hated to admit it, she knew that her mother was part of the blame for her mistakes as well, and she didn’t want her kids to grow up with the same hatred she felt for her mother. She wanted to be on time and hated standing Sasha up, but Stacey would have done the same thing for her, so she felt like she had no other choice. She believed if she did right by them, eventually they would get over it. She knew she had to do something.

  She walked away from the argument and went up to the room where the kids were all sleeping in one bed. She kicked off her shoes and climbed in bed with them. The next morning they all woke up and finally spent some quality time together. She started to believe that now was a better time than any to make a major change.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Dreams 2000

  Brooklyn sat in the room staring at the wall, waiting for Tommy to arrive. He’d been nice enough to meet with her to discuss their son. She hadn’t seen nor heard from him since the day she’d walked out and was hoping he’d allow her back into their son’s life. He probably hated her for the way things turned out between them, but at this point, it was no longer about what they had or could’ve had but more about what she could have with their child.