Prologue
•••
I swear i'm not a thug.
I was just one of the many niggas who found themselves on the opposite end of the silver spoon because their family was belittled by our third world society and had nothing to serve for themselves.
My first time shooting someone I cried myself to sleep for eight months straight and threw up every morning like a pregnant bitch. For a second I mistook myself for a female and had to really question if I was one.
What made it even worse was the fact that the person I killed was my own father. With years of neglect and abuse the only thing I wanted to do was get rid of it.
I could've moved on with my life, but it was hard to do that when I had leftover pain from the past. He was that leftover pain. To think that removing him would do me any better was an understatement.
Picking my gun up, I clocked it back then held it down into my pocket. There were too many people around in this open area and I didn't want to cause a scene.
"Hello sir, would you like to donate money for kids with—"
"Fuck them kids," I instantly cut her off before she got any further with her speech.
I had just gotten back from my first therapy session, feeling like a new person. I've done a lot of hectic shit and my actions became so lethal and treacherous that my own people were asking me to sign up and get help.
"Ion need no fucking help," I muttered to myself before making an entrance into Baptist Nursing home.
"Can you tell me what room Morris Moor is in?" I asked the front desk lady once she was off the phone with a caller.
She nodded her head and strolled through her laptop. "And who might you be?"
"His son, well step son," I replied before handing her a fake name so she couldn't identify me.
I was a stepson to many which included dealers who went by Cleo, Ram, and Montay. Somehow Morris ended up being the fourth because my mother couldn't help but sleep around a little more.
"Oh yes, he's upstairs in room 148. Also would you like to donate to-"
"NO." I turned at my heel and walked up the steps. I could've taken the elevator but I had a fear of getting stuck or that I'd fall through.
Once I made it up to his room I quickly shut the door behind me and locked it.
"Who goes there?" He asked before I flicked the lights on and he grasped his hand onto the arm rest moving back in fear.
"Long time no see am I right?" I took a seat across from him taking a whiff of fresh air with a bright as smile on my face, "It's funny how it smells better out here then it does behind the cells."
"W-when did they let you out?" His voice stuttered and I watched as he slowly tried to reach over for the Emergency button on the wall.
I picked up the garbage can, bedside me, and swung it directly at his head causing another gasp of air to run out his mouth as he flinched.
"JOVAN WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?" He yelled which caused his blood pressure meter to beep in the corner.
I let my legs spread apart slowly and just leaned my head back. I could've sworn my therapist told me to stop throwing shit at people. Too bad I don't listen to anyone but myself. "Where's her body Morris?"
"I DONT KNOW WHAT YOU TALKIN ABOUT BOY. I don't even know why they let yo ass out of that DAMNED PRISION."
He inched his hand back to the red emergency button and I swiped my gun out pointing it to him across the room. "Click it. I want you to."
