Scary Hours

“Don’t come around thinkin’ you gettin’ saved

Tryna show the dogs brighter days

Got a torch, tryna light the way

Bitin’ everybody, which is ironic

‘Cause your next album probably won’t ever see the light of day

Had fans, but you let ’em down

But I guess that’s how you niggas gettin’ down

I’m so high up I’m like, “How is niggas really gettin’ down?”

I could never have a kid, then be out here still kiddin’ round

Boys playin’ around, where you really wanna take it now?

I got a 150,000 dollars for an afterparty

And I gave it to the killas just to break it down

Bring us up, I never take us down

But if you bring me up, then they might take you down

Fake fucked with me back then

But it’s gettin’ hard for you to fake it now

Fuck bein’ rich when I’m forty, man, I’m tryna make it now

Hell nah

Never let these niggas ride your wave

Nope, no way, nah(Drake)” on repeat as I write this:

So the Pimp Name Nick showed me for the last time. At this point, Vegas was no longer safe for me. I didn’t trust anyone. Imagine sleeping next to someone who was plotting to destroy your life and your daughter’s life from the inside out, who sabotaged your own business and led you to believe it was your best friend “hating on you.” Deluded your head and your mind before this even occurred to really seal the deal that you can’t trust anyone or anything related to Vegas!

But I don’t know why he didn’t think that I couldn’t strip in other places. For the first time in five years, after that last accident tried to break my face, I said to myself, “I’m finna drive to Portland! Fuck it! It’s the strip club capital, and no one knows me there. I can start over. If I don’t make it to Portland, who cares, I thought. They tried to kill me anyway.”

So I put my big girl panties on and drove to PORTLAND! It was scary. I stopped a lot. It took me a long time to get there. I nearly died at one point. I had stopped at a Walmart to get some water and food for the night. Tiredness had long kicked in on this day. I almost slept in the Walmart parking lot, but prior experiences made me fear this. Another blog will introduce a new character, Apple Juice. I digress.

Back to the point. I googled the nearest truck stop; it was only 15 minutes away. I thought surely I could make it. I was very tired. It was very dark. It was about 1 a.m. But at this point, I didn’t fear death. This whole shit took the fear of dying away from me. You’d think those prior car accidents would’ve done that. But no, this did it. My whole thought process was, fuck it. Survival of the fittest. Kill or be killed, I thought. “Put me in the forest with nothing, and I’ll come out with a fur coat made of lion.” Whole mood and mode. Fight or flight for my psychology students! My favorite song always playing in the back of my head: “Don’t push me because I’m close to the edge. I’m trying not to lose my head.” (P. Diddy, “Can’t Nobody Hold Me Down”).

At this point, I wasn’t Elizabeth‘s mom. I wasn’t a student. I wasn’t a CEO! I was just a person trying to survive, and that’s what drove me. That’s what fueled me. If I was going to die, I thought surely it would’ve been at age 7, which is when my first tragedy started. My neighbors molested me. Spoiler alert for the first book.

Back to Portland. Anyways, I merged onto the highway, and I didn’t see a large truck coming in the lane I was merging onto. This truck would’ve destroyed me and my car. They would’ve needed dental records to identify me. That’s how bad this accident would’ve been, but my God is too good. He never lets me die. The truck honked its long, blaring loud horn to indicate that I was making a huge mistake, a life-threatening one to be exact. Out of fear, I hit the brakes and stopped my car in front of him on the freeway. I don’t know how this truck didn’t kill me. The truck screeched to a halt; fear sunk in even more. I couldn’t drive yet. I was on the freeway, which means this truck couldn’t drive. I needed to move my car so this truck could move. I was so scared. I started crying. I said, God, please just get me off the highway. By the grace of God, I got off at the next stop. Luckily for me, there was a gas station. So, I pulled into the gas station parking lot which was fully lit. I crawled into my back seat; called Captain, and cried to him. “How did I end up here?” He was devastated to hear this. He said, “Share your location. This is crazy. I can’t believe you got on the freeway after five years. You’re a fighter. You a real one.” He just don’t know!

Pt 2. Coming