“Baltimore’s Daughter”

A Story By: Queenadeola H. Royalty

University Of Maryland College Park

4-10-2023

"I was born into a world of chaos and violence, where survival was a daily battle and trust was a luxury I couldn't afford.”

 The sun beats down on my back as I ride my horse through the desolate streets of Baltimore, my gun always at the ready. 

I was born and raised in the heart of Baltimore City, in a rough neighborhood where survival was key. My father was a strong, hardworking man who taught me everything I know about horses and the land. He died when I was young, leaving me with nothing but his land and a spirit that was as tough as leather. As I grew older, my relationship with my mother became increasingly strained. It started out as just being a bit weird, but eventually her behavior became mentally abusive. And then one day, it turned physical. That day, when my mother crossed the line….it changed me forever. It was the day I learned to fight back, to protect myself and those around me.

I knew I had to learn to defend myself if I was going to make it in this world. So, I started to train and practice fighting every chance I got. Eventually, I became an expert in hand-to-hand combat and started to carry a gun for protection. I've been in countless fights since then, but I've always managed to come out on top. It's a tough life, but I wouldn't have it any other way. I remember one time when some boys tried to rob me for some change I had in my pocket. Four boys stood there, looking like they had nothing to lose. I tried to avoid them, looking for an escape route, but it was too late. I could feel my heart pounding as I reached into my pocket to give them what little change I had. But as soon as I pulled out the coins, they knocked them out of my hand and started to surround me.  "Come on, let's teach her a lesson," one of them sneered. That's when I knew I had to fight back. My father had taught me how to shoot a gun when I was younger, and I was a quick learner. I always kept a gun on me for protection, but I had never used it before. I reached for my gun, and before they could react, I had it aimed at them. "Back off," I warned, my finger on the trigger. "You don't want to mess with me." The boys started to laugh. "What, you gonna shoot us?" one of them mocked. I didn't hesitate. I fired a warning shot, and they all scattered. From that day on, I knew I had to be tough to survive in this world.I got into more fights as I grew older, but each time I learned something new. I learned how to dodge a punch and how to land one. I learned how to shoot a moving target and how to disarm someone with a knife. Now, I'm the one who people come to when they need protection. They know that I'll always have their back and that I'll always fight for what's right.

I remember when the virus was first announced. It didn't seem like a big deal at the time, just another news story that would come and go like the rest. But as the days went on, it became clear that this was different. Borders were locked down, cities were quarantined, and people were dying. Baltimore was hit hard, and with the gangs already running rampant, things were quickly spiraling out of control. That's when I made a decision. I may not be able to stop the virus, but I could do something to help my community. My father had left me with land and resources, and I knew that I could use them to make a difference. So, I started growing crops and raising animals, doing whatever I could to provide food for the people in my neighborhood.

It wasn't easy, of course. There were raids from other gangs, and I had to fight to protect what I had. But I was determined to make a difference, and little by little, my efforts started to pay off. People started to look to me for help, and I became a trusted figure in the community.

I make it a point to check in on some of the older folks in our community. They were the most affected by the virus. Many of them rely on access to consistent food and medicine due to their health problems. The elders in the community always sit on the porch steps and reminisce about the old days and the poor state of the youth. There’s Ms. Fatima, who used to live across the street from our house years ago. "These streets used to be filled with kids playing and families enjoying each other's company, even the thriving businesses were there." She says it wistfully. Then there are the little ones too. Some days I teach them how to plant and tend the gardens, other days I play games with them. I try my best to give them a childhood that I didn’t have.

Hoping to collect some resources and necessities, I rode out to the border of the city. As I approached the area, I heard a commotion and saw several government goons/soldiers huddled around something on the ground. As I got closer, I saw a toddler held on the ground, crying and screaming, while one of the soldiers held a syringe filled with a mysterious serum. Hey!" I shouted, immediately drawing my gun. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" The soldiers turned to face me, their expressions cold and unforgiving. "This is none of your concern," one of them said, stepping forward. I gritted my teeth and spoke slowly while getting off my horse. "Leave her alone …….. And back the hell up. " What are you doing to that child?" I demanded, my voice steady and firm.

The soldiers turned to face me, their expressions grim. "This is government business," one of them said. "I don't care whose business it is," I replied, my voice growing more forceful. "That child has done nothing wrong. You have no right to hurt her." The soldiers advanced towards me, their weapons at the ready. I knew I was outnumbered and outgunned, but I refused to back down. "Put down your weapons," I commanded, pointing my gun at them. "Now." For a moment, there was silence as we all stood there, facing off against each other. Then, one of the soldiers lowered his weapon and stepped forward. "Neema, We're just following orders," he said, his voice heavy with resignation. "We don't like what's happening any more than you do." I kept my gun level with their eyes. "I don't give a damn." I said forcefully. I could see the hesitation in their eyes. They knew I wasn't one to mess with, and they didn't want any trouble. Slowly, they backed away from the toddler, hands up in surrender. With the gun still aimed at the soldiers, "Leave. Now. I assure you, you'll regret it if you don't." They quickly retreated, leaving me alone with the crying toddler. 

I approached the toddler, who was still crying, and gently picked her up. "Hey baby, it's okay," I said as I cradled her close as she continued to cry. As her tears continued to fill her eyes, I suddenly remembered this little girl. She was the daughter of the couple who lived down the street from the old market strip. The virus unfortunately took her parents away. Aisha was so small, just a toddler, and was wandering around aimlessly. Eventually, no one could find her again. Until now. Just then, she looked up at me with big brown eyes, almost like she knew what I was thinking  and broke down in tears all over again. "It's okay, beautiful," I said softly, rocking her back and forth. "You're safe now."

I didn't know what the serum was or why they were trying to inject the child with it, but I knew one thing for sure: I wasn't going to let them hurt anyone in my community, especially a helpless child. I vowed to my dad that I would protect my city.

And that is exactly what I'm going to do. No matter what.