Southern Comfort
by La Jill Hunt
© Copyright La Jill Hunt 2011
Published by Kingstowns Publishing at Smashwords
Kingstown Publishing
1038-5 Dunn Avenue
# 30
Jacksonville, FL 32218
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without prior consent of the publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Any references or similarities to actual events, real people, living or dead, or to real locals are intended to give the novel a sense of reality. Any similarity in other names, characters, places and incidents is entirely coincidental.
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1
I hate this place. I hate these wannabe, thug ass niggas. I hate these wannabe fly, ghetto ass girls. I hate this cold ass weather. Everybody wanna be somebody important and really ain’t shit. I hate New York and I just wanna go home. I wanna go back to Atlanta, where people are courteous enough to speak and man enough to look you in the motherfuckin’ eye. Where you don’t gotta have the same blood running through your veins to be considered family; just being true to who you wit makes you a member. I wanna go where it’s hot in the summer and winter. I wanna go home.
Sydni looked at the words she had written in her journal a little over five years ago. She was only fifteen years old then and she had been miserable. Her mother had decided to move back to Brooklyn after Nana Brown, Sydni’s great-grandmother, had passed away. Her mom sold Nana Brown’s house, packed Sydni, her twelve-year-old sister, Miriam, and her sixteen-year-old brother, Aaron, and they relocated. Sydni’s father was from New York and even though he was long gone, Sydni felt that her mother thought she had a chance of running into that sorry bastard if they headed up to Brooklyn. So far, they hadn’t. The move didn’t really bother Miriam or Aaron as much as it did Sydni. They both seemed as comfortable in the Big Apple as they were in the Peach State. Aaron excelled in sports and Miriam in socializing, so neither had a problem fitting in. But Sydni was shy. She kept people at a distance and made no effort to befriend anyone, even though people often commented on her beauty. She was continually mistaken for Puerto Rican, and she hated that fact too.
“’Sup, Mami? Tu eres ta bella!” one guy yelled from the passenger side of a car as she walked home from school one afternoon. She tried to ignore him, but he was persistent.