Reckless

People wonder why I have a bored expression every time I get into trouble, or how I smirk at the judge when she tells me my punishment. They ask me how I do it, how I am so rude and don’t give a shit. To tell you the truth it was how I was raised by my parents.

My father thought me how not to cry, how to throw punches when people talk shit, how to piss people off. He really shouldn’t have thought me any of those things because I use everything he thought me against him and my mother.

My parents never paid much attention to me so I got into trouble to see if they cared, they did. I got into a fight in fifth grade with some guy who tripped me, the school called my parents telling them what had happened. They yelled at me and that’s when something clicked in my head – I had to get into trouble in order for them to pay attention to me.

So everywhere I went I brought chaos with me, everywhere I went I made bitches cry and males fume, everywhere I went I put up my middle finger and say, “I fucking dare you too.”

Why? Because no one ever stopped me from doing the things I do. I guess that’s why I’m in hand cuffs, standing in front of a female judge with a big ass smile on my lips. I roll my eyes as she talks to me and smack my gum. I smirk when I see she got irritated by the pop, so I do it again until she yells at me.

“Boy, you better watch yourself!”

I bore my eyes into hers as I say in a bored tone, “What was that? I wasn’t listening.”

I watch as the judge rubs her temples with her index fingers. A sigh escapes her lips before she spoke again.

“You know one more miss up and you go to Juvenile Hall, right?”

“Jee, again? You’d think you guys would mix things up a bit sometimes.” I say, scratching my leg with the edge of the table.

I can feel my parent’s eyes on the back of my head from the comment I made. It feels amazing to have their full attention on me that I grin. My probation officer nudges my arm and I look down at her with a questioning expression. She gives me a look that says ‘boy besta be payin’ attention’ before, turning back to the judge.

Rolling my eyes I do the same, but zone out when she opened her mouth. Really I don’t give a shit what the fuck happens, I just want this bitch to shut the fuck up! The slam of wood on wood snaps me out of my daze.

“Quincy Joe Martinez, you are to be assigned to a boy in need of help. Report to his house Monday morning, eight in the morning sharp! If refuse to do so, Juvenile Hall for a year and afterward house arrest of four months.”

Fucking great.