"Robert, stop. Stop!" I screamed.
As he stood over me holding clippers to my head, he ran them through my hair. Chunks of my beautiful black waves fell to the floor. Bald spots. Uneven patches. He made sure there was no coming back from this haircut.
"No. No!" I screamed.
I shot straight up in bed, my heart pounding, my body drenched in cold sweat. My hands flew to my head. My hair was still there.
It took a second for reality to settle in.
It was just a dream.
Well, more like a nightmare, because he had indeed cut my hair bald before.
When my vision finally focused, I realized I wasn't alone. My biological mother, Yolanda, and her brother Jr. were standing around my bed, staring at me like they had just watched a ghost sit up and start talking.
"What happened?" Yolanda asked, her voice shaking with concern.
My heart raced. My mind scrambled for an explanation that didn't involve telling the truth. I swallowed hard.
"Um… um… I had an accident," I stuttered, hoping they would let the lie slide.
Jr. broke the tension first, like he always did.
"Looks like you got into a fight with a grizzly bear and the bear won, sis," he said with a grin.
I forced a laugh, playing along.
"Come here, Jr. I didn't get my hug today. I missed your black little face," I said.
He wrapped his arms around me so tight.
Yolanda still looked worried. "I'm sorry I let you sleep so late. I already fed the boys. I know sometimes the day to day can be overwhelming."
I nodded, staring at her with gratitude. Every day felt like the first day I was really home.
It had been six months since my children and I took that long train ride back home. It had been six months since I left that hell hole prison with them crazy ass people. I felt like a new person. I had finally graduated with my high school diploma, something I never thought I would finish after dropping out to give birth.
I knew this was just the beginning of being an adult and starting my life.
Finding a job, sheesh, that had been a whole different story.
After countless applications and awkward interviews, I finally landed a job at a thrift store making $7.25 an hour. It wasn't enough to move out of my mother's house, but it was something. Enough to contribute. I was just honored to earn money and help my family.
After my first day, I was so excited to tell everyone how it went. I walked in and heard soft crying coming from the kitchen. I froze and peeked around the corner. My mother was sitting at the table holding a stack of papers, tears sliding down her face.
As I tried to back away before she could see me, my elbow knocked over a vase. It shattered loudly, hitting the floor.
Yolanda jumped, wiped her face quickly, and shoved the papers into a drawer.
"Oh, hey sweetheart," she said, forcing a smile. "I didn't know you were home. How was work?"
"Great, Mama," I said, pretending I hadn't seen anything. "Work was amazing."
She kissed my forehead. "I saved you a plate. It's in the fridge."
"Thanks, Mama. I'll eat once I clean this mess up," I said.
She nodded and disappeared into her room. I watched her until the door closed.
I tiptoed over and opened the drawer. My hands shook as I pulled the papers out.
There it was. A big red stamp that read eviction notice.
Eight thousand dollars owed or evacuation in thirty days.
I slid the papers back into the drawer.
The next day, I dragged myself into work, fueled by cheap coffee and pure anxiety. When my boss posted the new schedule, I walked straight up to her without fear.
"Hello ma'am. Can I please have more hours this week?"
"Hey, Karma. Sure. What days are you available?" she asked.
"Anytime. Any day," I said.
"Okay, I'll give you the openings I have available at the end of your shift," she said.
"Thanks, ma'am."
All I knew was I had thirty days, and I was willing to stay all day long if I could.
"Hey girl, how are you?" said my new friend, my coworker.
Crystal Ramos was the coolest person I had met since being back. She was short with brown hair, Hispanic, tattoos everywhere, piercings, always dressed in black. Rock music blasting in her headphones. Total opposite of normal, but somehow, we bonded really fast.
Work gave me a break from my thoughts and my PTSD, but the eviction notice stayed heavy in my mind.
It had been two weeks now, working every day with full overtime. I woke up excited. It was my day off, but payday. I needed to go in to get my check. I had already calculated how much it should be.
"Hey Karma," Crystal said. "Your check is in the boss's office."
"Thanks, Crystal," I said, running to grab my check and see my name on it.
I tore that envelope open so fast I got a damn paper cut.
One thousand dollars before taxes. Okay, I mean something is better than nothing.
Wait a minute. Nine hundred twenty two after taxes. Not so bad.
Oh hell to the hell naw.
Then they deducted my uniform, shoes, and pants. One hundred fifty dollars gone.
Now I was down to seven hundred seventy two.
This is bullshit.
Welp, I snatched it and walked out.
"Hey, what are you doing today, Karma? Hey, Karma, are you okay?" Crystal said.
I heard her, but I was so angry I couldn't even respond. I just knew I needed to hurry up and cash this check so I could put it in my mother's hands.
Once I cashed the check, they charged me thirty dollars.
Which left me with seven hundred forty two dollars.
I stood there staring at the money like maybe it would be more if I blinked harder.
I didn't spend a dime. Instead of catching the bus, I walked the eight miles home.
By the time I got there, my legs were burning and I was out of breath, but my mind was made up.
I handed the money right over to my mother.
Her eyes widened. "Sweetie, what is this for?"
"For whatever you need, Mama," I said while hugging her.
She shook her head. "No. You need that money for yourself and the kids."
"I already put money aside for them," I lied. "This is just extra."
She hesitated, then slowly took it. Her face softened, grateful but worried.
I knew it wasn't enough, and I knew it wouldn't fix everything.
But it was a start.
My heart still felt heavy. How would I get the rest? Going at this rate, I would never make it.
All I knew was something had to give.