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𝙰𝚃𝙻𝙰𝙽𝚃𝙰 𝙶𝙰 - 𝟾:𝟺𝟻 𝙰.𝙼. ——
Cairo sat on his bed, his eyes darting to the phone lying on the dresser next to him, the speaker button lit up as his aunt's voice flowed through the phone. "Cairo, you listening, baby?" His hands moved upwards to brush over his fresh cut, a habit of his.
"Yes, Ma," he responded.
"Have you been getting any sleep lately?"
He got up from the edge of his bed, nodding his head as if she could see him. "Yes," he lied, glancing at the clock that illuminated on his nightstand, reminding him he was now going to be late for work.
"Okay, well, imma let you get ready for work. I love you."
A slight smile etched across his face, knowing her words were genuine. "I love you too." His phone let off three beeps, signaling she had hung up.
Talking to his aunt always held significance in his heart because she was the only family Cairo had left, making him cater to her most often. Sending her money, paying her bills, and other gestures were his way of showing appreciation for her raising him as her own. Although he thought he wasn't doing enough, she always assured him he was.
Cairo walked further into his closet, grabbing a jacket and some sweatpants before pulling the sweatpants over his legs, followed by a white shirt and the matching jacket. He knew he was bound to be late for work, and his schedule was packed today—the workaholic in him was satisfied, as he now had something to take his mind off his never-ending thoughts.
He grabbed a pair of shoes, carefully sliding his feet into them before lacing them up quickly. He grabbed his business phone off the charger, stuffing it in his pocket along with his other phone. He swung his keys in his hand as he jogged downstairs, making sure Duke had food and water before he left. "I'll be back in a few hours, boy." He scratched the side of Duke's face as the dog nuzzled up to him a bit.
Cairo sped down the freeway on the way to his barbershop, his eyes averting to a picture sitting on his dashboard. It was a picture of him and his brothers, all three of them sitting on a bed in the apartment they once lived in. They all sported bright smiles on their faces as if they were the happiest children alive.
In reality, behind those smiles was pain.
Cairo's eyes started to slightly water as his mind flooded with memories. His chest began to rise and tighten with pain as he struggled to control his breathing. He pulled into the barbershop's parking lot, parking in his usual spot. He rested his inked hands on the steering wheel and leaned his head down—his eyes shutting as the faint memories became visible to him.
Cairo, Dominic, and Kareem all sat on the bed in Dominic's room, having just taken a picture of the three of them smiling.
"What you gonna do with that?" Kareem questioned, referring to the picture now on Dominic's phone.
"I'm probably gonna frame it," Dominic replied.
As the oldest, Dominic took the responsibility of caring for his younger brothers, always checking in on them.
"Y'all okay?" Dominic's eyes shifted over to Cairo, who was leaning against a pillow, his eyes staring up at the ceiling.
Cairo was never one to talk much, and when he did, it was usually something reckless. In his opinion, that was how he had to be, having lived in a foster home with dozens of other kids.
"Cairo?" Dominic questioned again, causing Cairo's eyes to flicker over to him.
"Yeah, I'm fine," he spoke in a softer tone than usual.
Cairo's endless thoughts continued to wander through his mind. They never stopped, and even when he thought they had, they hadn't. His thoughts affected him a lot, causing him to make irrational decisions sometimes.
Living in foster care for years, you had to be prepared for whatever. All three boys had lived in the same foster care since the ages of 12, 10, and 8, having to call it their home.
That lasted for a while, but now at the ages of 19, 16, and 14, Dominic was able to provide for all of them after a year.
Later that night, Cairo was awake as usual, unable to sleep. He heard movement coming from the living room, prompting him to get up and look. He already wanted to get his usual bowl of cereal, so it made it even better.
He looked over next to him, seeing Kareem sleeping in his bed across the room. He flipped the covers back, getting up and walking through the hallway.
He watched as Dominic slid his shoes and coat on before placing his beanie on his head.
"Where you going?" Dominic turned around, seeing Cairo leaning against the wall, rubbing his eyes.
"Um, gas station," he simply responded. That wasn't really where he was going. He was meeting a friend to make a move.
He didn't necessarily have to go with his friend to make the move because his friend could handle it on his own. It was just going to be some quick money they could split.
Cairo shook his head. He wasn't dumb. He noticed Dominic's movement throughout the night every so often and saw him coming back a few hours before school.
He also couldn't help but notice that a few months after his brother left the foster home, he popped up with an apartment and was able to take his two brothers with him. He provided them with a roof over their heads, food, clothes, a car, and many other things. Cairo knew exactly how he did it within almost a year.
Dominic also set money aside, making sure his brothers were taken care of. Most of his money went towards them and bills. He didn't have to look nice; as long as his brothers were okay, he was fine. Dominic had promised their mom he would take care of his siblings.
"Be safe," Cairo spoke, before turning around and walking back to his room.
The next day, Cairo witnessed his brother get gunned down, which caused his anxiety to spike for the rest of his life. The picture sitting in the frame held significance in his heart.
It was the last picture all three of them took, the last picture they had of one another, and the only picture that captured their bond.
He lost one brother to gun violence and another to the foster care system, but Cairo knew one thing.
They were brothers to the end.
Cairo's breathing slowed down as he opened his eyes he took a few deep breaths before grabbing his phone out of the cup holder and stuffing it in his pocket as he got ready to step out of the car and get ready to start his long day of work.
He was used to it at this point acting as if he was okay when in reality he wasn't. He worked his days away to keep him busy without sitting and dealing with his thoughts and came home dealing with his insomnia, not being able to fall asleep because of the dreams.
He didn't express himself to anyone and was fine with it, not knowing he was hurting himself in the process.
