On a brisk autumn night deep down In Mississippi, Robert Allen, a basketball player for the University of Mississippi, discovered that his boyfriend, is a murderer who had carried out some of the most ghastly crimes ever committed in the United Sta...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
It was around seven in the morning when I woke up for the second time, and thankfully, Iverson was in my arms in a deep sleep. I grabbed my phone and I checked the weather today, it was going to be a cool, sunny, and breezy Autumn day. Even though it was a beautiful day outside, I felt the storm clouds brewing over Iverson and I. We were going through a crisis, but we did our very best to play it all off... but I realized that we are definitely in a fucking crisis. We were in Jackson, not for fun... not to have a good time... not to play... but to handle business, to make sure that we covered all our tracks because I murdered a guy that almost murdered Iverson... This could easily be contested as self-defense in court, but who would want to go through that? Who would want to go through the US Justice system as a black man, in the southern state of Mississippi? Not me! And I damn sure would not want to put Iverson through any of that either, being an immigrant to this country, I am sure he had run-ins with Systemic racism that plagues this country. I would not want him to deal with the justice system head-on and face systemic racism head-on... Even though he was sneaking around and shit in the wee hours of the morning, I loved him and I protected him with my all... Even though he was sneaking around, and keeping secrets, I have my ways... Of finding out information, and getting what I want. Not to be rude or anything, but Iverson is not a native southerner, I am... and he is playing the game on MY court... and I have a competitive advantage.
"Good Morning," Iverson whispered as he stretched while I held him in my arms.
"Good Morning Handsome." I smiled as the sunlight streamed in between the curtains.
