Page 19 of Certified Pressure 4
I sat on the beach, staring out at the waves, with tears and snot running down my face. The water was dark and slow, pulling itself in and out like it had secrets of its own. I could still hear Abeni’s voice in my head, calm and cutting, like she was sitting right next to me whispering everything I didn’t want to hear. The idea of her having my father in her hands made me sick. My daddy had his flaws, he wasn’t perfect, but he was a strong man. That’s how I always saw him. To picture him tied up or guarded and helpless, made my stomach twist. I wanted to scream. I wanted to call her back and tell her to let him go. I wanted to make her hurt the way she made me hurt, but I knew that was impossible. That old bitch was in control now, and she wanted me to feel it.
The gun sat heavy in my lap. It was the same one I used on Pressure. I could still smell his cologne on it. Every time I lifted it, that scent came back like he was right there behind me,leaning down, whispering something slick in my ear. I hated that I could still feel him in every memory. No matter how far I ran, he followed me. It was like shooting him didn’t do nothing but make him more real.
The beach was quiet, and the sun had already dipped behind the water, leaving a stretch of pink and gold across the sky. My tears kept falling, and I didn’t even try to stop them. I felt empty, like there wasn’t no reason to keep breathing. I had all this money stuffed in bags, all these clothes and jewelry that used to make me feel like somebody, but none of this shit mattered because I’d trade it all to feel peace again.
I thought about calling my mama, but even that felt pointless. We never got along, and her not showing up to my wedding proved it. She probably thanked God she didn’t waste her time flying out to see me embarrass myself. I could imagine her smile when Pressure told me he wasn’t marrying me. That thought burned. I felt like I’d been fighting all my life to be seen, and somehow, I still ended up invisible.
I wiped my face, but more tears came. My chest hurt from crying. I pressed the barrel of the gun against my temple and just sat there. The metal was cool, and for a moment I thought about how easy it would be to pull the trigger. I’d already tried to take my life once with pills. This wouldn’t be that different. Maybe I’d finally get some rest. Maybe I’d stop hearing Pressure’s voice or seeing Pluto in my dreams holding his hand.
That’s when I heard somebody say, “Girl, what the hell are you doing?”
The voice came from behind me. I jumped and turned quick, still holding the gun. A female was walking toward me. She had beautiful brown skin that caught what little light was left from the sunset, and her curls were long, thick, and framed her face perfectly. Her baby hairs were laid so neat they looked paintedon. She didn’t look scared, just concerned, like she’d seen enough in her life to recognize pain when it was in front of her.
I wiped my face with the back of my hand. “Who are you?”
“I should be asking you that,” she said, stopping a few feet away. “You really gon’ do that out here?”
I didn’t answer. I just stared at her. She sighed, shaking her head. “You out here trying to blow your brains out on a beach this beautiful? That’s crazy.”
I looked down at the gun, then back up at her. “You here to set me up?”
She frowned. “Set you up? Girl, what are you talking about?”
I studied her face for any sign of a lie. She looked confused but honest. Still, my hands were shaking too much to tell what was real. “You don’t know me,” I said.
“You right,” she said softly. “But I can see you hurting, and I’on like that.”
I didn’t respond because I didn’t trust her ass, and I damn sure didn’t trust how calm she was.
“My name’s Nooré,” she said after a while, her voice easy and warm. “I’m meeting some friends out here, and I came early to set up. I saw you sitting here crying and then I saw the gun, and I just couldn’t walk past that.”
I stayed quiet, watching her.
She looked around, then back at me. “Is somebody trying to hurt you?”
I shook my head. “I’m fine.”
She raised her eyebrows like she didn’t believe it. “You don’t look fine. Listen, black woman to black woman, I don’t like seeing one of us break like this. Life get hard, I know it do, but whatever you going through, it ain’t worth dying over. Not out here, and not when the world already trying to take us out.”
Her words hit me harder than I expected, but I didn’t say nothing. She walked closer but slow, like she didn’t want to scareme. “Come over here,” she said, pointing toward the area she had set up.
I hesitated, but she smiled. “I ain’t crazy, girl. I just got some food, drinks, some weed and some music. If you gon’ be out here feeling like this, at least sit with somebody who understands.”
I looked out at the waves again. What did I have to lose? My life already felt done. I stood up, put the gun in my hoodie pocket and followed her.
Nooré had a whole vibe going on. There was a blanket laid out on the sand with candles glowing around it, a small speaker playing soft R&B, and a tray of fruit, weed, bottles, and cups. Everything looked warm and inviting, like something off a postcard. She moved around like she’d done this a hundred times, pouring drinks and fixing the setup before the sun disappeared completely.
“You smoke?” she asked.
I nodded.
“Good,” she said with a light laugh, lighting a blunt. “You need to hit this a few times and calm your mind before you do something dumb.”
She passed it to me, and I actually took it, trusting that everything would be okay. The smoke filled my lungs, and I coughed a little, but it relaxed me. I sat down beside her, staring at the candles. She poured two cups of liquor, added some lemonade and handed me one.
“I don’t know what you been through,” she said, “but I promise it’s temporary. Nothing stays the same forever.”
I took a sip, the burn steadying my nerves. “You don’t even know me,” I said.
