𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

34

Michael had just dropped me off at home. I have so many lectures to memorize and it doesn't help that all I wanna do is sleep.

I change into one of Micheals shirts, I did this when I missed him. His scent lingered every where not allowing me to miss him too much.

I grabbed my iPad and started to study because tomorrow I had a very important quiz coming up.

About 30 minutes into studying, I get a call from my brother. I hesitate to answer because he was mad at me and I didn't want him coming back for more to tell me how fucked up I was.

But still he was my brother so my heart asked, what if he's hurt ?

"Hello?"

"Where's Michael ? Fuckk!" I heard him scream in the distance and my heart beat instantly quickened.

"He's getting his haircut. Von what's wrong ?"

"Sos, don't come, I've been shot in my neck, if I don't make it-

"No shut up I'm on my way."

I grabbed my keys, my hands were shaking, my whole body felt uneasy.

I drove recklessly on the roads, even if he was 5 minutes away I knew how bad a neck injury was. I also called the ambulance. This wasn't a arm or leg this was his neck.

Walking into my old home my heart sank. He was on the ground, still breathing, barely.

I laid him in my lap, his brown eyes dilated. Tears began to pour from my eyes.

"I'm...sorry, I didn't mean to-

He tried speaking but he couldn't, small coughs turned into large ones filled with blood. I thought that I'd gotten use to witnessing death, but this was different. This was blood.

I called Michael.

"Treyvon just got shot. I'm at his house. There's b-blood everywhere...I don't think he's gonna make it Michael-

"Shit, Where was he shot at ?"

"H-His neck."

"I'm on my way baby."

"Hurry please." I stressed.

When the phone hung up I sat there, crying and rubbing his cheek. I was so scared.

The door opened but it wasn't the police, the ambulance, or Michael.

3 niggas in mask covered in tattoos, my body froze in fear but not for long because I knew I had to defend myself.

I immediately grabbed the gun from teyvons pocket, using to my best ability to shoot whoever just found their way in here.

I missed two, only landing one bullet causing one of them to fall but the other to quickly make their way to me so I got up hoping to outrun them.

One of the bigger ones got a hold on me placing some type of poison to my nose instantly causing me to black out, the faint sound of ambulance leaving my ears was all I cared about in this moment.

Treyvon was safe.

...

Ｍｉｃｈａｅｌ

I searched everywhere for my Sos, she was no where.

I questioned every EMT, every officer, "Have you seen a short brown skin girl, was she there with him?"

Each time, "Sorry, no." Caused my heart to sink.

I was losing my mind. She wasn't here, her phone was left behind, it was too much. Especially with Treyvon on the table getting surgery.

I thought of every place she may have gone, telling myself that as soon as Treyvon woke up I'd go and find her but I started to get impatient.

I scrolled through her phone hoping to find something that dragged me back to her.

I went to our home, her iPad was on the table and her school papers but she was no where to be found.

I hurried upstairs to our room, she was nowhere. I prayed and prayed she was ok, I had no way to contact her.

I searched for her Apple Watch and realized she probably had it on before she went wherever she did.

I texted from my phone multiple times but nothing went through. My mind had too much going on.

I made ever call, to her dad, to her nana, Teyshawn, Liana, everybody close to her. They all had told me they hadn't seen her and to calm down but I couldn't.

My sos was gone.

My anger built up and I never was a cryer but for her I'd lose my mind and that's exactly what I did.

Everything in sight became something for me to break, lamp by lamp, vase by vase, I got more worked up before I just sat down on her side of the bed, crying.

Something was wrong. I could feel it. She'd never leave Von by himself, especially without her phone.

I know my Sos, she stayed. No matter what she stayed.

...

Authors Note

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