Annabelle Steele - Being Amani

Published in Great Britain by Hashtag BLAK an imprint of Hashtag Press 2021

Text Annabelle Steele 2021

Cover Illustration Joi Washington 2021

Cover Design Anne Glenn 2021

The moral right of the author has been asserted

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

A CIP catalogue for this book is available from the British Library.

ISBN 978-1-9138350-4-0
eBook ISBN 978-1-9138350-5-7

Typeset in Garamond Classic 11.25/14 by Blaze Typesetting

Printed in Great Britain by Clays Ltd, St Ives plc

HASHTAG BLAK

Hashtag Press Ltd

Kent, England, United Kingdom

www.hashtagblak.co.uk

Twitter: @hashtag_blak

Hashtag BLAK is an imprint of Hashtag Press Ltd

Website: www.hashtagpress.co.uk

This book is dedicated to every girl, every young woman and every Queen who has ever found herself looking for happiness in all the wrong places.

To the women

There are so many women to thank, so many women who have believed in me and so many women who have encouraged me to keep going over the years. From teachers to friends to family members and colleagues, I am so incredibly lucky to be surrounded by such amazing women!

Of course, I would like to thank my mum for believing in me and inspiring me in everything that I do. For cheering me on and for encouraging me to follow my heart at all times. Through you I have learned to be strong and graceful. Through you I have learned to be me. Youve taught me to always have faith, to look for the positives and to find the silver lining in every situation. I am forever grateful!

Thank you to all of my friends and family, with special thanks to these ladies: Cherelle Ekepe, Katy Burton, Tina Steele, Aunty Corine, Louise Rosario-Tulloch, Aunty Mel, Stephanie Woodworth, Sarah Brazier, Katie Neil, Faye Preston, Jess Heaney, Rachel Shaw, Rosie Hegarty, Janine Ojinnaka, Maryrose Ojinnaka, Daisy Pointing, Dionne Anderson, Chanel Spooner, Afiya Chocollo, Lucette Henderson and Yousra Imran for constantly reminding me that I am Queen in the presence of Queens! I would like to thank you all for continually talking me up! For the constant encouraging messages! For the support! For the pep talks and the kicks up the bum! Thank you for listening to me moan, for hyping me up and for all of your kind words! This one is for all of you! (Hopefully I havent missed anyone.)

Thank you to Helen, Luisa and Abiola at Hashtag Blak for sharing Amanis story, for believing in me and for helping me see it through to the end. I am forever grateful for all of your patience and hard work! Thank you for creating Hashtag Blak and for being dedicated to sharing the stories of underrepresented voices. Thanks for just being the Boss Babes that you are!

I would like to thank everyone who has entertained Ezra while I have been planning, writing and editing. Without you all, it literally would not have been possible!

And finally although this is about the women in my life, I would like to thank my husband for listening to me moan about everything and anything. For sitting with me and discussing plotlines until midnight (on more than one occasion). For getting excited about my writing when I had lost all faith. For not allowing me to give up when I wanted to throw the whole book away! Thank you for allowing me to follow my dreams and for holding my hand along the way. Eternally grateful!

I lay in bed scrolling endlessly through Instagram and saving images of Black girls with big smiles and long, beautiful braids as inspiration for my next hairstyle. Naos latest single plays on repeat in my earphones. My eyes feel heavy and I know that sleep will come soon.

I jolt up to the sound of smashing and crashing coming from downstairs. Without thinking, I look in the direction of my bedroom door. I pause the music, pull out my left earphone and freeze. I wait, hoping that it was just my imagination. I lean up on my forearm and tilt my head, as though its going to help me hear better. I keep my eyes fixed on the door. The room is in complete darkness apart from the blue light coming from my phone, which is casting long shadows on the walls.

I realise Ive been holding my breath and the bedsheets are sticking to my clammy body while I wait for the inevitable. Another smash, louder than the first, but this time I jolt so violently that my phone slips out of my hand and falls on the bed. My hearts racing and my body begins to shake. Most people would call the police and report that an intruder had entered their home, but I know its not an intruder. I know that they live here and I know whats coming next.

I cant just sit and listen to them arguing again. I ball my hands into fists as my fingertips fizz and tingle with anger, but Im rooted to the spot. The quilt shackles me to the bed.

Come on Amani, get up!

Nothing. I take a deep breath and exhale as I force the quilt of my body. I climb silently out of my bed and creep across the room towards the door, being careful not to step anywhere the floorboards creak.

I open my bedroom door, just a crack, and the light from the hallway floods my room. Theres mumbling and another smash, but this time I dont jump. Im numb. Their voices gets louder and clearer as they move into the hallway. The footsteps give away the exact location of my parents. I know this house well and I know that they are directly below my room.

I squeeze my lips together and close my eyes, praying that it stops me from crying. I shake my head in disbelief. I cant believe this is happening again.

A shrill scream pierces through the house and I immediately clasp my hands across my mouth. I want to run downstairs and see if Mum is okay, but Im scared. Scared of making things worse, and of what Ill see, but mostly Im scared that Dad will turn on me.

I glance at my wrist and wince, remembering the pain from the last time. It only happened once, but once was enough.

My heart races as the blood pumps around my ears. Its making it difficult for me to hear anything else. I take my hands off my mouth and hold on to the doorframe to steady myself.

Mum and Dad have argued a lot recently; its got worse since she lost the baby but I thought things were finally looking up. They were fine this weekend, but Dads been drinking tonight. Is that what theyre arguing about? Mum hates it when he drinkswe both do. He gets braver and meaner and more well, more like this.

I creep out of my room to the top of the stairs and look up at the clock in the hallway. Its 2:13am. I wish I was still in bed, drifting off to sleep as Nao serenades me. My chest hurts and I finally exhale. I didnt realise I was holding my breath again. Theyre still shouting at each other. I crouch down on the top step and I just about make out some of their words.