Why Me?

By Robert Mulolo

Renee is a young woman who has yet to understand the true meaning of happiness. Her reasons vary from never knowing who her father was; to having a mother who shows her nothing but contempt; to an absentee sister who indulges more in her partying than acknowledging her baby sister. Renees loneliness perpetuates through the pestering of her mother to the point where jumping off a ledge seems more alluring than ever.

Yet, with all these emotions spreading through her; Simon, Richard and Christopher come along. They will have a strong and powerful impact on Renee's life, attempting to heal the wounds of a past love. This bares the question: Will they salvage a young woman's life or will they push her off the edge?

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Oct 24, 2012
• ISBN: 9781475937749

Robert Mulolo

1981 was the year that the Democratic Republic of Congo welcomed one of its most artistic sons in Robert Mulolo. He started writing at the age of 14, but first got published in 2010.

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Why Me?

ROBERT MULOLO

iUniverse, Inc.

Bloomington

WHY ME?

Copyright © 2012 by Robert Mulolo.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

ISBN: 978-1-4759-3773-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4759-3774-9 (ebk)

iUniverse rev. date: 10/19/2012

Contents

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER 1      October 10, 1998

CHAPTER 2      My Addiction

CHAPTER 3       Reality

CHAPTER 4       The Wolfpack

CHAPTER 5       Pasteles

CHAPTER 6       Confirmed

CHAPTER 7       Honest Mistake

CHAPTER 8       Anniversary

CHAPTER 9       Out Cold

CHAPTER 10       True Colors

CHAPTER 11       Retribution

CHAPTER 12      Never Again

CHAPTER 13      The Verdict

CHAPTER 14      Betrayal

CHAPTER 15      Exits The Shark… Enters The King

CHAPTER 16      The Start Of A Beautiful…

CHAPTER 17      Happyness

CHAPTER 18      The Promise

CHAPTER 19      Charges

CHAPTER 20      Lawyer Up

CHAPTER 21      Dethroned

CHAPTER 22      Fight

CHAPTER 23      Court Is In Session

CHAPTER 24      Losing Shannon

CHAPTER 25      Her Best Interest

CHAPTER 26      Sacrifices

CHAPTER 27      My Help Cometh…

CHAPTER 28      Payback’s A Bitch!

CHAPTER 29      The Wind

CHAPTER 30      Darkness

CHAPTER 31      The Return

CHAPTER 32      Revelations

CHAPTER 33      Third Time’s The Charm

CHAPTER 34      Sinner

CHAPTER 35      El Extremo Del Dolores

CHAPTER 36      Why Me

Endnotes

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

This book would not be possible without you . . .

Blaise Tshibwabwa, you inspired me to get back to following this dream of mine. I appreciate your contribution to the literary world. You’ve never given up on your side and I congratulate you on all your success cuz.

Karen Simpson, you were very instrumental in the development of this story by reading it and giving me honest and constructive criticism. This story would not be as great if we had not talked all those times. Thank you.

Alejandra Colocho, I will always love you! You, in some way, inspired this story. Had it not been for you, I don’t think I would have found any appreciation towards Latin culture. I wish things had been different between us, but God saw it fit that we went our separate ways. I love you and thank you for being in my life. You’ll never be forgotten.

Pooja Gulati, Heidi Fortes and Maria Victoria Linares Morales. Pooja and Heidi, you girls are the best. Thank you for proofreading my book. Toya (Victoria), thanks for the translation.

Jeremy Fernie and Amanda Huynh, thank you for the great pictures for the cover page. The two of you were VERY instrumental. I’m looking forward to work on many more projects with you all.

Thank you Naz Zarif for introducing me to them. My brother Eric Mulolo and his girlfriend, Lindsay Espeut. Thank you both for all the support.

My homie for life, Mechelle Waite, thank you for the help on my words. I’m glad you’re a part of this chapter in my life.

Last, but not least is the One who really deserves acknowledgement and that is the Most High. God has provided me with this talent. Many times in my life, I made the mistake of blaming God for the bad decisions that I have made, but I must say this here and now . . . I am completely grateful for ALL the experiences I have gone through. I am now stronger than I ever was and I am able to go on in life ready to take on the world. THANK YOU LORD!

Y’all enjoy this book now. It is my greatest accomplishment to date, but not my DEFINITIVE work . . . Stay tuned ;) lol

Robert Modeste Mulolo Beya

PROLOGUE

I’m trying not to get any tears on this page while I’m writing this note. For years, I’ve thought of writing this. For years, I’ve thought of the words I would jot down, never coming with something I thought was smart. But for all these years, I’ve had reasons to keep me from writing it. I’ve lacked the courage to sit down and share my final thoughts. Now, I’ve lost all my reasons and I’ve gained courage from my very good friend that came in the form of this beautiful bottle of tequila… PATRON is his name… I think… Who gives a fuck! I have no choice right now but lay down, drunk and write, before I throw up, of course. One reason was Maria, my big sister… She was always full of life… I envied her spirit. But now you’re gone… It don’t matter anymore. The other reason was my daughter Shannon, my beautiful child, my gift from God. With her, I felt important, but I also felt needed. I didn’t have negative thoughts for a while, thanks to her. She was my rock! You’re gone now! You’re fucking gone… My baby! Everything else was weighing on me too. My mother, although she hasn’t been that bad lately, has always been a great source of misery, always belittling me, especially in front of people. Just now she came here shouting and I had to shut my door on her. Why couldn’t she say that she loved me? If she can’t love me, she can go to hell! Richard’s punk ass is gone. You’ve really hurt me and I will never forgive you for that although some parts of me still remember and miss you. Good thing you’re gone! Asshole! You made me lose everything! Punk bitch! Simon… I hate you more than anything! You are the MOST evil motherfucker I’ve ever met! I hate your fucking guts! I hate your fucking girlfriend or wife whoever the fuck she is! I hate you more though! What goes around will motherfucking come back around for your motherfucking ass! Then there’s you, Dad… Daddy? Father? Mister? What the fuck do I call you when I never even seen you? You a punk for leaving! Christopher’s cute… He’s probably not even interested in me though. He can go fuck himself too! FUCK EVERYBODY! Then, there’s Cooper… Cooper… I just love writing his name… Cooper…

I’m going to take the sharp blade next to me now and attempt to separate my wrist… There’s no reason to keep going…

Renee D. Rodriguez

CHAPTER 1

October 10, 1998

The convenience store was just quiet and empty that night. Logan Square didn’t seem that bad of a neighborhood at that moment and time, much more different than Hermosa.

With a view of California Avenue, behind the store’s counter, I spent most of my days looking outside to see the entertainment the streets can offer me; such entertainment would include couples arguing or people performing in front of the store for spare change. I was privy to such treats only when the store was empty, otherwise; I became a watchdog behind the counter sitting on my high wooden stool, looking at the three aisles facing me making sure I didn’t have to thrash any wannabe thieves although I had not been consistent with my Muay Thai training.

Closing time was coming slowly that night and I was feeling the torture that the clock was imposing on me by not reaching 11 o’clock fast enough. The sounds of Hector Lavoe’s Aguanile made the torture bearable.

Plus, I received good news from my teachers earlier that day. Almost two months in and I was already getting praises for work assignments completed.

Even with all the recognition I was getting from the staff at the Wilbur Wright College, I couldn’t wait to get started on the remaining projects. I was, however; restrained to keep guard at the store until closing time came.

The clock showed 10:00pm and my situation hadn’t changed. I was serving my 5 hour work sentence without parole, looking for an escape, but knowing that I had to serve my time.

I sat there, letting the thoughts in my mind tracing back my steps that brought me to this place.

By the time I graduated high school, Maria had made enough money to move out on her own.

My older half sister, Maria, had dropped out of high school her graduating year. Finding more rewards in hustling men for a living, Maria decided that academics were going against her career plans.

I wanted what Maria had. I wanted to be able to get out of my mother’s house and be independent, but I decided to graduate high school. I just refused to go to College, but, unlike Maria, I was not willing to sacrifice my body to be successful in the business she was in or any other types of business the streets were offering me.

Still determined to make money, I answered an ad to work in a convenience store and for two years, I tried to make enough money to get out of the house and get my own place like Maria.

My mother’s constant pestering of my situation was my motivation to move out and the cause of my stress. With that added to the low paying job, my patience started to wear thin.

After a while, it became apparent that I was not going to be able to move out with a convenience store job that paid minimum wage unless I worked a 2nd mediocre job or went back to school for a career.

So at the young age of 20 years old, I decided to keep this job and go back to school. I wanted to find a profession where I would not have to worry about. That’s how I found myself at the Wilbur Wright College. My goal was to gain enough credits to go to the University of Chicago and enroll in their Law Program.

The gig at the convenience store helped me pay for things like books and other school necessities. The job was somehow still a way for me to keep away from going home and dealing with my mother.

The time was 10:15 when the chimes on the door were heard. Boredom had been interrupted by the arrival of a customer.

The older gentleman limped his almost squared shaped self over to the counter, smile on his face and cane in hand. I reciprocated with a smile of my own. He removed his gentleman guardsman cap, and greeted me with a head nod, the kind of nods that were exchanged by the youths in the street nowadays, which made if funny for an older man like him to do so. His dark skin shade which could’ve had him mistaken with a shadow would’ve scared anyone who didn’t know him, but I giggled saying, Mr. Samuels, what brings you here?

With a voice as deep as James Earl Jones, he answered, Like you don’t know little one.

I laughed. Mr. Samuels was a regular customer who came three times a day: Around 10:00am; 3:00pm; and 10:00pm.

He limped to the aisle and stood in front of the magazine stand, stroking his Magnum P.I. moustache and then after a few seconds, he picked up a fishing magazine.

Looking at Mr. Samuels selecting his groceries amused me. He would always get the same items every day, but he always looked like he was in front of a real dilemma when he walked through the aisles.

As he made his way to the other aisle, he asked, So, are you back in school yet?

I answered, as he picked up a bag of pretzels, Yep! Going straight home to study right after this.

The man, limping back towards the counter, said, You better! Or you will see my dark side.

I laughed, and asked, taking the exact change from the man’s purchase, You can get darker than that?

The man stood waggling his finger at me with a smile on his face. After, we shared another laugh; he was out of the store. I never knew my dad, nor was there ever a male figure in my life. Mr. Samuels is the closest thing to a father I ever had, but then again, he was a father that was present when I had my shift at a specific time for 5-10 minutes each time he came.

I went back to keeping company to my boredom waiting for closing time while Big Pun and Joe sang about not being players on the radio.

As 10:30 pm came, my thoughts started plotting. I had to get the hell out of here! I thought that I should just clean now and when closing time would come; I’d be a few minutes early.

I waited a little longer and as I saw that there was no sign of a customer walking in, I just walked into the stock room, in the back of the store, behind the three rows facing the counter, and picked up a bucket and a mop.

When I came out with cleaning supplies, the chimes on the store’s front door were heard again and Suavemente by Elvis Crespo started playing through the store’s speakers.

I muttered a few curse words under my breath as I hurried to the cashier, leaving the supplies by a wall.

I arrived there and there she was with her almond shaped eyes, just like mine, except that mine were hazelnut colored. She had the same oval face I owned. We could’ve been mistaken for twins if it was not for me being 6 inches taller, for my skin being a shade darker than her perfect tan or my bigger nose or my fuller lips or my stronger jaw line.

She stood by the door holding a bag. Removing the part of hair covering her face, she lifted up her bag and as perky as can be, she asked me, What do you have planned for tonight?

I smiled at her little car salesman tactics and said, Maria, I already told you last night! I have to get a head start on my projects for school. I am not doing anything else tonight!

She made her way to me and said, pouting, Renee, you know we hardly spend time together—

Whose fault is it?

—I just want to share my spare time with my sister so we can have stories to share with our kids when we grow old together.

I laughed and Maria did the same. Maria never had time for me. She never called and she never visited. She only came when she needed help with something. Most of the time, it was to beat up some girl. I said, I bet you ain’t got no guy to spend money on you, and now that’s why you want me to go.

Maria smiled and nodded. I said, "Listen, I would love to go, but you know how mama is always on my back, especially with you moved out. I just wanna do good in school to at least get her to cut me some slack."

That was true too. Mama never would approve of me hanging out late at night. She would have a fit.

Let me ask you a question, as she removed items inside her bag and placed them on the store’s counter, Maria asked, What is your current average in school?

School barely started, but I’m close to a perfect average.

With one hand, Maria held up a small red ¾ length sleeve belly shirt and with the other, she held a black pair of tights. She said, Go in the back room and put these clothes on. I’ll deal with mama. Tonight, we have fun, you and I!

"Pero Maria . . ."

She held on to my hand as she cut me off saying, Not buts, but yours going to get changed.

I picked up the clothes and shouted "Dios Mio!"

I started walking towards the stock room, but then realized that I still had to clean up around this place. I turned around and said, I still have to clean up around here before I go and it’s going to be time to close in a few minutes.

Maria said, "I’ll take care of it! You go and change now! Vamos!"

I obliged her and went into the stockroom to change, seeing that there was nothing else that could be done especially when Maria had an idea in mind. While in there, I turned off the radio and the store remained silent, except for the sound of expensive high heel Donna Karen pumps knocking against the floor.

I took off my baggy blue jeans and my uniform which consisted of a green and blue vest that I worn over my black checkered shirt. After 10 minutes, I finally came out of the closet more uncomfortable than anything. I was surprised to see that the store was already mopped up and the sign on the door was already flipped to CLOSED.

Maria, I think that this is too small! I said pointing at my not so concealed cleavage with one hand and covering my exposed belly button with the other. I was not used to dressing that way. I was very self-conscious of my body.

Maria walked over to me and started fixing my clothes, saying, That’s how it’s supposed to look. The more cleavage shown, the better the night will be. It would’ve been better if you had taken off your bra—

She looked at me and I knew what she was thinking.

I don’t think so!

Maria put her hands up in the air as a sign of surrender, saying, —Don’t worry about it. We’ll work it out.

She then took a step back and looked at me. She came back to me and started fixing up my wavy brown hair, which landed just underneath my shoulder blade saying, "Estoy tan celoso del pelo¹. I wish I was half breed."

I laughed, thinking Yeah right. Maria then took another step back to see what else needed to be fixed.

What about this? I asked pointing at my back side, uncomfortable of the tightness these pants had to my form. It felt and looked like I had nothing on and the thong underwear I was wearing were not helping either, making me more uncomfortable. The thong was a gift