Page 292 of Invisible Bars
“I miss her. But I won’t enable the one standing in her place.”
The door opened just as fast as it shut.
The clock ticked ominously in the background, each second dragging out the reality of my situation. And in that moment, I finally understood what losing everything really meant: it was anemptiness that filled the void, echoing with memories of what once was, coupled with the stark realization of what I had lost.
Chapter Fifty-Two
NAJI
When I stepped outside, the heat enveloped me like it had a vendetta, pressing down with an intensity that felt almost personal. But I had already made peace with the sweltering forecast and the unpredictability of my edges. I wasn’t stepping out to fight against the relentless heat; to be seen and to make my presence known.
The day of the annual block party had finally arrived. I told myself that I wasn’t hiding under the shade of trees, layering clothes to shield myself from scrutiny, or letting nerves dictate my confidence. I stood tall and ready, fully aware that whatever the day had in store—be it heat, sweat, or chaos—I was prepared to embrace it all.
I noticed how the block had been transformed into a lively fairground. People were everywhere; their laughter and chatter filling the air, creating a symphony of joy. Brightly colored tents lined both sides of the street, while cheerful balloons danced above, bobbing like excited little spirits. Children raced around, snow cones in hand, their sticky fingers leaving trails of color as they sprinted past, sneakers kicking up clouds of dust in their wake. A DJ booth filled with turntables and speakers pulsed out clean yet classic hip-hop.
There were bounce houses, face painting booths adorned with whimsical designs, tables overflowing with school supplies, exciting raffles waiting to be drawn, and even a dunk tank. The sweet and savory aromas of grilled ribs, crispy fried fish, and caramelized onions wafted through the air, mingling like an enticing perfume that made my mouth water and my stomach growl.
My tics—those pesky involuntary movements—were fewer than usual. They still made their presence known with an occasional eye twitch or a subtle flex of my hand, but they no longer overwhelmed me as they once did. I had learned to navigate through those moments, breathing deeply to regain my composure. I counted backward in my head to ground myself, reminding myself gently that I was safe, that I belonged here.
Today was a celebration, and I was ready to shine.
Imanio and I walked hand in hand for a bit—me trying not to let the sight of so many people overwhelm me, him watching every face like a bodyguard disguised as a block captain.
“Babe, you outdid yourself,” I exclaimed, eyes scanning the crowd. “Look at all these people!”
He gave me that proud little smirk I knew too well.
“Nah…wedid. Don’t count yourself out… or Dess.”
“P-Please not her!” I chuckled.
Imanio reached up gently, brushing his thumb across my cheekbone like he was wiping away something that wasn’t even there.
“You good?” he asked quietly, just for me.
I nodded, already feeling the heat rise in more places than the sun could touch.
“Will you be good for a few minutes? I need to go check on a few things, and I know you don’t wanna walk around all day with me,” he asked, already glancing at his phone like ten people were waiting on him.
I scoped the area, then spotted Dessign parked under a shade tent, looking like royalty with an attitude problem.
“I see Dess. I’ll just c-chill with her for a while,” I responded.
“Aight.”
Imanio leaned in and gave me a kiss—soft but quick—then we went our separate ways without needing to say much else.
Dessign sat angled in her wheelchair under the shade tent like a VIP in exile, sipping Sprite through a Twizzlers straw. Her sunglasses were bedazzled… her attitude was not. She looked radiant in her burnt orange romper, gold hoops and legs crossed in her chrome-accented wheelchair. Dessign’s walker was nearby, but she didn’t use it much unless her legs started tiring. She was improving every day, and I could see it in the way Chi looked at her.
I strolled up, grinning. “Okay, ma’am. You’re out here lookin’ like you just rolled off the Essence Fest cover. G-Give me some warning next time so I don’t look like your a-assistant.”
Dessign lowered her shades just enough to glare over the rim, smirking.
“Please. You’re glowing like you done signed a deal with Jesus, like Chi when he thinks he won an argumentandlike you ain’t paid a single bill this month. You’re still stealing the shine, but it’s cool. I’ma let you have it today.” She chuckled then added, “But heeeeeey, boo!”
We shared a laugh and hug.
“That romper is pretty, though. You’re killing it, girl!” I complimented.
