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#HalfTheStory
1_EDITED
After the Dish
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Being Daddy’s Little Girl

October 28
by
Hit Records Worldwide
in
Creative Outlets
with
.

She hung from the balcony with her arms hanging over head. Her pretty Prada heels hanging by her pedicured toes. Her hazel eyes flickered from above her to the fast pace moving street of New York below her.

Her lotioned fingers were slowly slipping from the frozen metal railed balcony, bringing her inches closer to a fall. She closed her eyes beginning to put her pride aside. Being daddy’s little girl wouldn’t help her from the threat of ending her ‘perfect’ little world.

“Help! Please,” She screamed, her words echoing over the balcony. “Help!” She screamed. Her cries growing louder as she dreamed. Dreamed of a savior. One that suited her flavor. A man – no a boy with blond hair. Who’ll smile and bare his biceps as he tells her “I’m going to help you fight this.” Maybe he’ll have pale eyes, that she’ll fall in love with. Tell her no lies. Maybe he’ll have a smile so sincere, mother Teresa probably wouldn’t come near. So she screamed “help!” again, waiting for her “Savior” to attend. Attend to her cries and needs. Give her everything, to make appease.

But her savior wasn’t in her description. Wasn’t a piece of some Romcom fiction. He was a boy with his hair gelled back. Hidden under a Red Sox baseball cap. His pants secured to his waist, his shirt starched held in place.

Now you see, she’d fallen so in love with her own graphic depictions, that she’d forgotten her life isn’t from fiction. That she wasn’t just daddies little girl. Indulging in her own ‘perfect little world’. She was daddies little toy. Something for play. Give him what he wanted and he’d give her what she wanted the next day. The ‘day after’ pill never had a broken seal. Leaving her expecting and alone. Alone with what she’d have to provide for in a time of nine months. So she let out a sob, let herself fall.

And as she fell she realized what life was slipping from her – her life of living hell.

By: Shayla Bush

 

What I Hate Most

October 24
by
Hit Records Worldwide
in
HRW Music Group
with
.

A lot of people have things they don’t like.  And you know what I hate the most is being called a bitch and nigger.

First, do I have a tail? Four legs with paws and do I have fur all over my body?

Also, do I have my tongue sticking out of my mouth?  Do I bark to communicate?

When I was born could my mother fit me in the palms of her hand?

Let me think; ah no!

As I recall, I stand on my two legs, I have hands and I use words to express myself.

I don’t recall being born with a tail.

And then people try getting away with saying bitch by making some type of complement.

By saying dogs bark, and bark is on a tree, and a tree is nature and nature is beautiful.When people call me a bitch I want to peg a dictionary at their face and beat them with it and have them look up the word and see that being called a bitch is a sign of disrespect. I am not an animal, I am a human being. I will not tolerate being called anything else but my actual name that is on my birth certificate.

For the cherry on top then people call me a nigger.

I have an education, I dress properly. I have brown color pigment in my skin and they call me a nigger. I don’t go around calling people a cracker so don’t call me what I am not. If you want to talk to me like that, you don’t have an education then clearly you should go talk to someone who cares because I clearly don’t give two flying f—what you have to say to me.

By: Arielena Aquino

Crumbs to Bricks Through Playing The Drums

April 12
by
Hit Records Worldwide
in
HRW Music Group
with
.

FROM CRUMBS TO BRICKS will always be my motto – something I can call my own, to hold onto me; something from nothing.

I was raised with 13 brothers and sisters. At age five I was molested by friends and family. Child Protective Services yanked me from home and dumped me at a shelter. I’ll be safe here.

While residing at the shelter, again it happened, it was the older teens living at the shelter. At this point yeah I feel lost, lonely, and most of all confused about my situation.

Why so many people? Why always to me?

Yes, yes, yes. I’m free. Moving to a nice foster home. I’ll be safe. The same things kept happening there. I was afraid to tell anyone, mostly uncomfortable and embarrassed. Beginning to stay to myself, now blaming myself, scared.

Finally, I was out of the foster care system. My mom couldn’t get custody so I was placed with my aunt. Jesus, at 13 my brother drugged me and had sex with me. Will it ever end!

I met my dad when he came to visit one day when I was in foster care. After a year with my aunt I moved in with him – he’s the pastor of Mt. Vernon Baptist church in Houston.

This is the turning point in my life.

I fell in love with music. It seemed to be the only thing that would make me forget about any and everything and gave me peace. I started singing in the choir faithfully. But even though I love to sing and clap it was something about those drums. I’ve never taken any lessons before but always felt I had what it took.

I started playing after church all the time and the elders always would run me off the drums saying stop making all that noise! I guess they really didn’t understand my gift that was being born within me at that time.

One day the drummer didn’t show up at church, guess who was there? Me! I played a real simple beat that I had been practicing before, thank God it worked because I started playing for the youth choir after that!

From there my love for music grew. I started playing drums more and more. The more I play the happier my life seemed to be. Since then my life has been on a positive turn because of my motivation, my love for what I do which is my gift of music, and my determination to be something in life.

I’ve had a lot of doors open in my favor that I never would have had if I hadn’t started believing in myself and picking up my self esteem. I’ve come a long way but I didn’t do it by myself. With prayer and my drums nothing is impossible.

The reason I say crumbs to bricks is because at one time I believed that I was crumbs.

I was shattered into pieces. I felt I was nothing. But now my spirit is rejuvenated! Those pieces are now a strong beautiful woman and I’m stronger than I was before. I stay positive, driven, and motivated in everything I do and positive things always come back to me.

Along with my music I am aiming toward being a mortician and fire fighter. I also hope to one day meet new wonderful people and be an inspiration for young woman to be strong internally and follow their dreams.

I don’t want this to happen to anyone anymore. I want to be something more – like Cindy Blackman.

 

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