WINEM .

+$𖢲﹔twenty-five.

KOJIKU ELLA NEL
✩
DETROIT, MICHIGAN

—d3dope'🫀.

Tequila was acting weirder than usual. She was clingy— talkative more life she wanted me to say someone to her; a secret that I'm holding in.

Did she know that I know?

Or was she just testing me? Fuck, I don't know.

"Bye baby, I'll see you after work!" My mother says waving me off, slipping her work shoes on before stepping halfway out the front door. "You take care of my son T, he's a lot."

My mother wasn't angry as much from the news Giovanni told her.

She even changed herself too. We sat down and spoke about my whole kidnapping and everything that has happened.

She didn't respond with no aggression, it was just small comments and a tone where it was calm and simple.

She understood everything, and was okay with it. But wasn't okay at the fact that I still was in contact with one of my kidnappers; Kemo.

"Tell me about it— boy don't touch me." I suck my teeth, moving Saints hand away rolling my eyes at the simple giggle Tequila just let out. "So, I suppose you guys are official now? I missed a lot huh."

"Just because you moved back in doesn't mean we're cool sis," My brother, Saint says getting up from the couch, holding onto Tequilas hands firmly while the two jogged up the steps.

"All this because I told him to drop the beef with Kemo." I muttered, searching through the kitchen cabinets trying to find the weed I always stashed away.

It was surprising my mother never thought of searching anywhere in the kitchen, when it's usually the main spots— minus my room.

"Fuck," The bag falls out of my hands, all I could see were small scrunches of weed splattered around on the tiles. "Whatever, I'ma still smoke the shit."

More kidnappings have been happening in the past few days as usual, it wasn't Kemo and his boys this time... It was the group of three I mention to Giovanni.

But the neighbourhood around us was doing good lately, along with my brother and mother. There was nothing suspicious, so I knew Shameek wasn't going to pull no foul shit.

I told Saint a few times that I felt like Shameek has changed, he took it the wrong way and flipped my who script around.

My brother told me that I changed, but I had my reasons, reasons he's never expected before. I do agree that I have changed, and is still coping on becoming a better person but it's harder than you'd think.

Growing up as a teenager you rarely have anyone to talk about your problems, unless you have money to pay for a therapist or have a tight bond with your mother or friends.

I didn't grow up in an affectionate household, so it was kind of harder for me to try and talk the shit out.

Sighing lightly my phone began to ding softly bringing my attention to pull it out of my back pocket.

shyne'
come out front,
buying something from
the store.

At first I was hesitant at shyne's text message, she hasn't messaged me ever since the names of my kidnappers were revealed on the news— it's been weeks now.