High Expectations

I thought about my life and how it went by so fast, just because it was going so fast right now. I was off the wall. I was somebody. I was Rosie Jacobs. And as I did what I did I thought how my life, in short...was turning downhill. I remember being four years old in Venice. It was so beautiful and we were moving to New Jersey. I thought since the name being 'New' Jersey, it was going to be nice...I was wrong. My father got so involved with gangs we had to change our names. I don't even remember my real name. Rosie Jacobs is only a fake, permanent name. And then I remember being eight and my parents just divorced. My father and I were at the park and someone came up and shot my father. He just ran to his car and left me. I cried for him and cried and nobody ever came to take me home. From there on is where I took care of myself. Maybe that's why I'm so fucked up now.
Now, back to reality. Where was I? Who were these people? I stumbled out of the house and fell down the stairs. I didn't even get up...I just lied there and went under into unconsciousness.

After that night and what had happened, I will kill whoever put me in jail. Yep, the next day I was running and running and running...from the pigs. But, they tackled me down to the ground. Maybe it was because I sold hard drugs at that party...or was it because I was on them? Oh! I know...I had a warrant. Fuck. This ruins everything. My mind was lost in a billion thoughts. What the fuck was I supposed to do? Nobody is gonna bail me out, nobody even gives a damn about me. I'm just a stupid slut...just like they said.

“What you thinkin' 'bout, girl?” A woman in the same cell asked me. She was African-American and looked like a hooker. Straight up.

“Nothin'. Why do you fucking care?” I wasn't scared of anybody, not even people in this stupid jail.

She turned her head and just kept to herself. She knew she was gonna either get her ass beat in here or her pimp will bail her out and beat her ass.

“Rosie Jacobs.” A cop appeared outside of this cell. Who was bailing me out?

“Yes ma'am.” I jumped right up and walked out.

I never seen the man who was standing there. Who was this man bailing me out? He was black. He had a nice appearance though. I hid my smile and bit my lip.

“I'm Charles H. You live at the top floor of the hotel I live at. I heard you was in trouble, thought I could help.” He smiled and he started to walk out of the building, I followed.