The Worst Thots Ever

By: Jessica Wren

A 512 Scandal

Chapter One

Mia Symone

Have you ever heard the term never get on a bitch’s bad side? Well if you haven’t I’m about to introduce you to the coldest bitch ever. Don’t judge me! You see I’m a woman scorned! Some bitches move on while others get even. Me? I am simply what you would call damage goods. I can’t separate my imagination from reality. A bit mentality unstable, yet determined to get what I want. There is a fine line between sanity and insanity. Today I tapped that line and there is no turning back. I’m a lost cause.

Long distance in the way of what could be

Even when you're here, you're not with me

She's having the child I should've carried

I'll be damned if y'all get married

How's the baby, How you adjusting?

Ain't gon work, you got problems trusting

Let me stop, I'm supposed to be focused

But these nights are the coldest

Will you ever let her go? I don't know

Will I ever be first? I hope

But I ain't just sitting around, can't wait for someone to sing my worth

Damn I can't compete with a baby

Is there any room left in your heart for me

I love him, I love him, I love him

Maybe I should call,

Maybe I should call

I love him, I love him, I love him

But I never call

Maybe that's my flaw

K. Michelle: Maybe I Should Call

“That’s why I fucks with you. Yasss bish, yasssss! You better sing that shit,” I hollered out loud to myself. I am sitting in my purple 2015 Infiniti Q70L, chasing tears from ruining my new Alexander McQueen dress.

On Thanksgiving Day, I’m here sobbing in jealousy when I’m supposed to be happy; eating greens, turkey, dressing, ham, yams, and mac & cheese. You know, chillen with the family, shooting the shit, laughing, fat, full, kicked back and watching the football game. Instead I’m parked outside of Jaceyon’s mama house like some basic ass hood chick.

Taking my right thumb, I turned the volume up on the steering wheel. I’m filled with so much rage and hurt; the only thing keeping me sane is bumping my bitch K. Michelle’s, Anybody Wanna Buy a Heart cd. It is therapy to my soul, literally.

“Ugh! Why does love have to hurt? Arggggggg!” I screamed while gripping the steering wheel. Tears reemerge, flowing freely down my fair skin. K. Michelle was speaking to a bitch’s soul right about now. Every lyric she sung, stung my heart like a million bee stings. Like the pages in my diary, she sung my secrets, flaws, fears, failures, disappointments and the shit had me feeling some type of way.

Reaching over the console and opening the glove department, I retrieved a couple of napkins to wipe my face. Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, I try to force myself to leave and go back home. ‘Mia Symone, you’re better than this. Fuck Jaceyon,’ my alter ego encourages. I put my car in drive, then back in park, as fresh emotions resurface.

I woke up this morning feeling confused and broken. Rolling over in the massive California king bed, I stretched my right arm hoping to come in contact with the warmness of Jaceyon’s body. My heart sinks when I realize the left side of the bed was cold and empty. Not bothering to cover up, I hopped out of bed. “Jaceyon,” I called softly. My eyes begin to water. I could hear the rapid thumping of my heart. “Jaceyon,” I yelled louder thinking maybe he didn’t hear me. I searched my entire condo; but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know he was gone. Pressing my back against the soft yellow wall, I slid down to the floor. “I can’t do this no more,” I cried out loud, as I rubbed my hand over my tiny bulging stomach. I cried so hard, that I ended up falling into a deep sleep. The stinging of my arm alerting my body that my blood needed to flow is what woke me up. I looked at the clock on the wall and realized that I have been in the same spot for five hours. I weakly stood and went to my room. I grabbed my phone off the charger, hoping that Jaceyon left me a message or called to check on me. I fumbled through all the texts from family and friends wishing me a Happy Thanksgiving. None of them were from Jaceyon. Enraged, I got dressed and decided to ruffle this nigga’s feathers. What better way to get a nigga’s attention than popping up to where all the family is, including the fiancé.

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