My coloring book,coming soon

This happened in 2010. As far as I know, the multiplex apt is still there in Little Rock Arkansas. When I first told a coworker about the haunted house we lived in, I was making jokes and stuff,but she said I seemed sad and nostalgic when talking about it. 🧵30/30

So,I took S,s sherbet ice cream out of the freezer,and me and B sat down in the front room. “ You wanna talk?” 🧵29/30

She hesitated, probably wondering if she should risk it anyways and to tell me to go fuck myself, but common sense and the belt we kept on stand by made her think better of it.But,she looked like she really needed someone to talk to. So did I . 🧵28/30

Nothing. A regular room,in a regular house. Except B was in the hallway,about to knock on her dad,s room, staring at me like I had went crazy jumping up the way I did. She wanted to talk to her dad. I told her he had just gotten off work,go back to bed. 🧵27/30

Had I ever been as happy as these spectral children were, before foster care, before the physical and sexual abuse? It felt like the couch was breathing behind me. I could feel it,and that scared the hell out of me. I jumped up and flipped the switch . 🧵26/30

They could have been playing anything. I could barely see there faces, but I didn’t feel like anything was sinister. I just laid there,watching this ethereal game of whatever in front of me. I don’t think they even knew I was there. Hell ,I could have been the damn ghost. 🧵25/30

Any of y’all ever live in a haunted house in the hood? It left me kinda sad.But a lot less depressed. My brother, S had just gotten full custody of his 3 kids after spending 18 months in prison( long story,maybe another thread) 🧵1/30

My sister,L had just left a toxic relationship with her 3 kids. We had just moved into this multiplex/ apartment.I lived by myself before then,in a studio apartment in downtown Little Rock,Arkansas.I was almost 30 at this point. 🧵2/30

11 years or so before ,I had gotten out of foster care in Pine Bluff. Basically we first moved to Hot Springs,then I left and moved to Little Rock. Anyways,the multiplex was cheap,clean, and had enough room for all of us. I was kinda just meeting some of the kids. 🧵3/30

They were sweet enough. But my brother,s eldest, B was taking it hard. She loved her mom, but that white bitch took off and left them with CPS because she couldn’t “ deal with it”. She wanted the fantasy of the hood life,but felt we weren’t living up to the stereotype. 🧵4/30

Let me start by saying I don’t have a real opinion about the afterlife. I was baptist in most of my foster homes, from the age of 8 until about 13 or 14 . 🧵5/30

After that I realized that most black church folks were human beings had probably been looked down on most of their lives,so they need someone else to look down on to make themselves feel better. Same with a lot of foster parents who lacked compassion. 🧵6/30

I’m fairly Agnostic now, with a sprinkling of I don’t give a shit. We black folks really don’t take care of our mental health. Moving in was a very strange somberness .The first couple of instances was cabinets shutting and opening. 🧵7/30

I was always stuck inside my head, so I put it down to maybe B was getting a snack or something. Food has always been a comfort for most in my family, as actual trying to comfort someone was too much. We just didn’t show much affection. We didn’t know how at that time. 🧵8/30

Then there were footsteps. It was a 3 bedroom, so I shared a room with my sister,the kids room was in between ours,and my brother had his room that he shared with his youngest. A bit cramped,but comfortable. 🧵9/30

Our room was the first,so it sounded like someone was running from the kitchen down the hallway. L thought it was one of the kids. She yelled at them to stop. I didn’t care. I worked 2 full time jobs. S and L worked too, but as far as I was concerned,they were their kids. 🧵10/30

I didn’t want to admit that I was unhappy with the circumstances. I had divided up the rent and bills 3 ways,and L wasn’t pulling her weight. I think the new found freedom of not being in a toxic relationship in a big city pretty much led to her wanting to party . 🧵11/30

I was tired, whatever the voices and stomping in the hallway was, I chalked it up to thin walls and my last fucking nerves. B was lashing out at me, and I admit, I was a bit immature. 🧵12/30

She was S,s daughter,but he was my brother .I think she was angry with me for not saving them from foster care when their mom took off. I didn’t want to get close to any of the kids,because we had been through so much. 🧵13/30