Page 7 of Counting His heartbeats

"Damn, you ain't choked on a dick and died yet," I rant, frowning deeply.

"Aw. You're not happy to see me after everything I've taught you. That hurts my feelings," Rema says with a gleam and twinkle in her eyes that twists my stomach.

"Hm. Is that what we call fucking minors these days?"

Rema lets go of her cart, strutting in my direction, causing me to give her a once over while internally kicking myself when my dick jolts in my pants. Rema's body, despite her age, is a work of art I hate admiring. The zebra striped print drawstring split thigh dress encasing her body has my mind fighting against memories I wish I could forget.

Lord, of all the sorceresses, no longer breathing, why is this woman free to do so?

"You have always been my favorite, Jawaan. If you come by the house, I'll show you just how much I've missed your touch," Rema whispers in my ear with her hand resting on my chest, causing heat to rush to my dick like I've been hit with a flare.

My body feels like I'm under a spell when my mind spirals back in time to the moment I knew that Rema Gardner did more than foster children.

"Why are you crying, baby?" Rema asks after slipping into my room like she's on a covert mission.

I thought I had been doing a good job of keeping my tears silent by crying into my pillow, so Rema's presence made me alittle discombobulated. Although I have been living with Rema and Humphrey for three years, I still long for Sheryl. I also struggle with feeling neglected by her and Dad, in addition to guilt for not being able to be the child Jennifer and Jared wanted me to be for them. The reality of having to grow up in foster care with no ties to a biological family is unsettling, depressing, and painful. Today's field trip, where everyone had a parent chaperone, left me with much to be desired, with my pillow full of sorrow.

"No. No reason," I mumble while wiping my face.

Rema is in a black satin robe, and I'm unsure what's about to happen when she unties it, allowing it to fall open. I swallow, and my eyes balloon at seeing her naked body on full display. Rema nods while strutting to my bed, pulling back the blankets, which causes me to move slowly away, creating a separation between our bodies. The queen-sized bed suddenly feels like a twin when Rema scoots closer, cutting off the space between us.

"I can help you feel better. Come here so I can show you what I mean." Rema grabs my hand, guiding it to her full breasts.

My mind sputters when I feel her breasts contradicting the unfamiliar twitch in my dick, tenting my sleep pants. At ten and with two brothers in the house, I'm not a novice to the idea of sex, yet this is my first encounter with any form of the act. My head jerks back when I feel Rema lightly kissing my lips.

What in the world?

"Follow my lead. I'm going to help you feel better."

"You remember, don't you?" Rema asks, instantly snatching me out of the memory to see the smirk on her lips and the gleam within her orbs.

A bitter tang invades my mouth, causing my throat to burn and making it difficult to swallow. With the strength of a bodybuilder lifting three hundred fifty pounds, I damn neartripped trying to get away from Rema, abandoning my cart in the process. The urgency to get out of her presence has me forfeiting the groceries I'm in the store for. The memory of Rema teaching me how to suck her titties before instructing me on how to eat her pussy is hovering on the surface of my mind. My stomach is twisting with an intense pain that has me running to the first trash receptacle I come to after exiting the store and vomiting profusely.

Journal Entry #1

At ten, I found out that some forms of sex can indeed make you feel better, but only temporarily. At that age, I had no idea what I was doing, leaving me completely open to a woman whose intentions with me were for selfish gain. How did I go from living a life with parents who loved me to people the state told me I was blood-connected with to living in a home that groomed little boys to be sexually deviant? I was ten years old, and Rema Gardner had her way with me, yet I never complained or disagreed with anything she did. I actually enjoyed the love she showed me because she always told me I was her baby. She told me that only she could love me enough to make me feel better. I didn't even make it to eleven before I began craving hertouch and desiring her essence on my tongue. What is wrong with me?

Sighing deeply, I closed the journal Mama Lo had given me, stating it would allow me to release my thoughts healthily. After my run-in with Rema, I definitely had to write out the things plaguing my mind.

"Maybe I also need to make an appointment with the lady helping Kyce and Kayshon sort out their lives."

What doyou do to overcome the pain in your heart from a loss you didn't foresee? This is the question I have been asking myself since speaking with Zion when he challenged me to do something to push through my grief. I had repeatedly spoken this question to myself with no answer before getting curious enough to ask Google. Hell, the search engine seems to be the tool many use for every other inquiry, so I was intrigued to see what answer I would find. I'm not sure if I felt better or worse after reading the answer.

It's crucial to allow yourself to grieve fully, seek support from loved ones, practice self-care, acknowledge the reality of the situation, and give yourself time to heal.

I'm sure whoever came up with the information believes the response is simple, timely, or helpful, but it only causes me frustration. Giving myself time to heal does nothing for the thoughts of embracing motherhood and adjusting to welcoming a baby into my life, or the lack I feel since neither of those things will be happening. The idea had been staggering and snatching my breath because I didn't even know I wanted a baby until the opportunity had been taken from me. Battling my emotions has pushed me to go to work and nothing else, but I'm now bored and desperate for something to occupy my mind. I have no cluewhat led me back to this hospital, but it's too late for me to turn around, so here goes nothing.

"Hi. Um, I would like to become a volunteer. Is that possible?" I ask the man sitting at the reception desk.

"Of course, it is, and you're in luck because a new group is about to go through orientation. Head up to the third floor and tell the person at the desk what you need," he instructs, smiling while pointing to the bank of elevators not far from where I am.

Nodding, I follow his instructions with my heart pounding in my chest and my pulse racing with every step I take. Pushing the button to call the elevator, I weakly smile at the couple exiting the shaft when the doors open a minute later.

What are you doing, Zurmani? You have a full-time job. How are you going to volunteer at this hospital? How do you think this is gonna help your current disposition?

My mind swirls with questions when the doors close and the elevator ascends to my destination. I'm out of my element, but something has led me to this place, so I might as well see it through. I exhale upon reaching my floor walking to the brunette with a bright smile sitting behind the desk, who somehow eases the mounting tightness in my back.

"I-I'm here to volunteer," I explain.

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