You weren't EXACTLY the second mother to your thirteen year old brother: Darrin, AKA Doughboy and your youngest(ten year old) brother: Ricky, since you were the eldest sister of them, but you did parent them when your mother: Brenda Baker, decided she didn't want to, which was more than half of the time unless she felt like scolding and beating those boys asses.

You were listening to Brenda scold Doughboy. “You ain't shit!, you just like your daddy, you don't do shit and you never gonna amount to shit, all you do is eat, sleep, and shit!” she'd scold Doughboy. “Is that it?, I gotta go.” he'd scoff and click his tongue as he threw on his hat and walked off, Brenda shook her head. “Is that it.” she mocked doughboy. “Boy don't get smart with me, I'll smack you into the middle of next week, where you going anyway, you little fat'fuck, you don't gotta job. ” she said before noticing someone on her porch.

“Who the hell is on my porch?!” she said in disbelief as she gently smacked your shoulder. “Gurl, go and see who the hell is on the porch.” she told— no commanded you.

You sighed but nodded your head and got up, opening the black iron screen door, to see Furious's son, Tre out there waiting on Ricky and Doughboy. “Mama it's just Tre!” you called out to Brenda, who laughed softly, she loved Tre, she thought he was a sweetheart like Ricky. “Ah, Tre!” She greeted the ten year old Tre Styles from inside.