Latasha was the last person she spoke to. She told her that she was too skinny and that she should eat more bananas. Then she said she was beautiful and told her not to let anyone stand in her way. With that, she died.
Google.com has been my homepage for years, but times have changed.
Elowel.org has now taken that place.
I worked from 11am-10pm the last two days. I don't know why, but this is not a difficult task for me, until I clock out. I am then immediately fatigued.
Latasha and I were supposed to go on a picnic tomorrow, and I was very much looking forward to it. I talked about it all day at work... I just realized that I'm starting this story in the middle, so I shall back-track.
She was going to go to the beach on monday, but suddenly at midnight last night her mother told her they were leaving in six hours. She tried to reason with her mother, and eventually I think she was actually planning to just miss out on this vacation and stay home, partly because of plans made with me. I tried to tell that we could reschedual and that if she wanted to go to the beach she should, but she is quite stubborn and I'm not sure why I even tried.
In order to discover where she was I was to call her cell phone on my lunch break. Well, I tried, and tried. No answer. I kept trying when I finally got off seven hours later, and she finally called me about 11:30pm. I asked her where she was, in reference to whether she was at home or the beach, she hummed nervously and asked if I really wanted to know.
Los Angeles, believe it or not. Her great-grandmother has gone gravely ill, and she fears she won't last through the night.
I just feel awful. My primary form of showing affection is by doing things for people, by helping them out, by solving problems and relieving stress for them. This is how I first attracted her attention. First she didn't know what to do with some sour cream a customer gave her, claiming it had been tampered with. Then she couldn't lift her garbage to get it over to the compactor and lastly she needed more window cleaner. I only wish now that there was some way I could simply toss something into a compactor or refill a cleaning liquid and make everything better. I don't know how to act, how to help, what to say. I think it is God telling me that the situation is out of my control.
I'm not being a drama queen and saying, "Why did this happen to me?" however. I am simply saying that I want better for Latasha and her family.