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    A Ghetto Story
    A Ghetto Story
    A Ghetto Story
    Ebook92 pages1 hour

    A Ghetto Story

    By Arleatrice Burroughs

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    About this ebook

    Life..... Such a simple four lettered word, with so many choices, consequences, struggles, ups and downs. The neighborhood I lived in was filled with drugs, poverty and crime. This book is about my life how I survived how I dealt with and lived it. There were no walks in the park, caviar or limos. Just an awkward hand I was left to play! I grew up with roaches, rats, gangsters and block parties, how did you?
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherAuthorHouse
    Release dateJun 11, 2012
    ISBN9781468561746
    A Ghetto Story
    Author

    Arleatrice Burroughs

    Arleatrice Burroughs is a single mother of 4 children. She spent a lot of fond childhood memories in Jackson, Florida and she now lives in the beautiful place of Charleston, South Carolina a beautiful city and lovely tourist place because of its wonderful people. Hope you enjoy and learn something from reading the book as the author enjoyed writing it.

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      Book preview

      A Ghetto Story - Arleatrice Burroughs

      Contents

      Dedicated To

      Introduction

      chapter 1

      chapter 2

      chapter 3

      chapter 4

      chapter 5

      chapter 6

      chapter 7

      chapter 8

      chapter 9

      chapter 10

      chapter 11

      chapter 12

      chapter 13

      Dedicated To

      My mom Vallree my dad Woodrow who together taught me how to love live and survive. I also want to dedicate this book to my four children who mean the world to me, Anthony, Richard, Diamond and Destiny. My niece Whitney Prosser my nephews BJ., and JoVaughn Freedman. My brother and sister Bernard and Virginia. My cousin Justin and little cousin Ethel (Black Barbie). Thanks To all my friends, Latifa, Brenda Gail and her four soljas, Alma, and to my aunt Sarah thanks for teaching me how to love myself and keep them haters hating, I ain’t hard to find. To my Aunt Ellen beating cancer twice! A special thanks to my Personal Assistant, Glenda for having what I need when I need it!

      Thanks for everything Stacy Grayson, I won’t forget you.

      Love, Arleatrice

      Introduction

      As I sat on the edge of my bed, tasting blood on my lip for the last time, I looked into the mirror at my swollen face. Three thoughts ran through my mind, 1st was I wished my mom was still alive so she could tell me what I should do. Second was I hoped the swelling would go down before I visit my son.

      The last thought was really a question to God, Why am I still here? Please let death come to me. I can’t take this abuse anymore. At that very moment I went back in time to that sweet shy little girl my dad use to call Puddin. With my hair covering my face and my silk bathrobe was now a torn piece of rag, my husband had the nerve to ask me if I still love him? And was I going to leave him? With tears streaming down my face I looked up at him and replied, No I would not leave you, and yes I still love you! I then told him, I no longer respect you as a man. He told me once we were married he would never hit me again. Three days after the wedding, he choked me until I nearly passed out. While I was still sitting at the foot of my bed, my husband then went to sleep in the living room. I started to think to myself, how did I get to this point in my life? What happened to me? What did I do to deserve this?

      All I did was ask my husband to please stop using drugs. And stop drinking. To him that was very disrespectful. Just yesterday I was watching him in the mirror shaving, it reminded me of when I was a little girl and I use to watch my dad shave, and now today I’m crying. That was the inspiration behind my book! My story is not about my husband, but it is about bad choices we sometimes make in our lives. Why did I always choose the wrong men? Why was I always attracted to men that I knew stayed in trouble? I grew up in the projects; I grew up around boys and men who did bad things. If they weren’t selling drugs they were womanizers, robbers’ even killers. All I knew was the projects, Yes they were violent men but they did have love for me. Once I grew up and started dating I seemed to be attracted to men that reminded me of men from my past, that turned out to be very unhealthy for me!

      You see I knew my dad loved me, yet he use to fight my mom. They were married when she was twenty years old, and she didn’t leave him until she was thirty two. I know now that I have to break the cycle for my daughter. I pray my story helps someone with the temptation of selling drugs, growing up to soon, and most importantly domestic violence.

      chapter 1

      Sunshine State

      As far back as I can remember, I always had a hard life growing up. My mother was born into a very religious family. My father was a decedent of slaves, so as you can see already we didn’t start out with money. We had love, for a while, but poverty was guaranteed. My dad didn’t have much luck getting work so my mom got on welfare and food stamps, at the same time she also went out looking for some housekeeping, or cleaning. Basically anything that was hiring. Sometimes, until the food stamps came, we had no food so my mom would make us eat salt, ketchup sandwiches or ketchup with grits.

      Being a baby girl of 3, it wasn’t great but it wasn’t bad either. We did have some good times, sometimes my dad would take us to movies or to dinner. I can remember when my mother had to go to the hospital and my dad had to get me dressed so we could meet her, I was about 3 years old. He had a hard time putting on my shoes. I remembered laughing at him because all he had to do was undo the straps. I guess he didn’t take the time to do it because we were in such a hurry. We lived in Jacksonville Florida, it was so beautiful.

      My mom ended up getting somewhat close to this lady that lived behind our apartment. She had children too so she would bring them to play with me and my siblings. One day my mom left us with the woman and her children, so that she could go on an interview. The lady sent us upstairs to watch T.V. along with one of her older sons, he was already in the room. He told my brother and sister to sit on the bed and told me I could sit on his lap. I was only three years old but I remember that day well. He starting moving around a lot and ended up trying to put his hands between my legs. I didn’t know exactly what was going on but I kept moving his hand. I then climbed off his lap and went to sit with my brother and sister. Shortly after, his mom called us down stairs to eat some cold spaghetti out of a can. That shit was disgusting! My mom finally came to pick us up, I was so glad to see her! She didn’t leave right then, she talked to the woman for a while. I sat on the floor next to her playing with some toys. They lady’s son came downstairs and sat on the couch next to my mom, I then crawled under the coffee table. My mom kept looking at me, like she knew that something wasn’t right. The young man then said to my mom, Puddin is so pretty, she has the most beautiful bedroom eyes I’ve ever seen.

      My mom sat for maybe another 10 or 15 minutes, then we left. I guess the vibes I showed my mom made her skeptical about that family, so she never took us back to that house again! A few years later my grandmother told my dad she was sick and dying, so we moved to Charleston S.C. It was around 1979, or 80.

      Before we left Florida my dad was in all types of money scams. From drugs, to a band he had, to drag racing, even pimping. One day my dad and I was at the race track and he and some dude got into an argument. My dad started the car and ran into the guy. When the smoke cleared I was upside down under the dashboard anyway my dad rushed home and my mom was screaming at him about getting me out the car. All I can remember about that was him going thru the front door changing clothes and leaving out the back door. A few months after that my dad started working for a garbage company driving the truck, he had a best friend called Big Larry Love. He use to make us laugh by picking up the back of the garbage truck, I thought that was so cool. He was almost as cool

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