Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
DAMARI ISIAH JONHSON,19
August/14/2018
8:24 PM
Now Damari wasn't a killer, never had the intention.
He did it once though, fucked him up. Mentally and emotionally, hated himself. East told him too, he said that it was the only way to protect him and the people he loved.
He didn't even know the guy, he did no harm to him. And just because of Andres sick twisted mind, he did because he thought it would be best for him.
He hated the way the gun felt in his hand, how heavy it was, the way his body flinched when the bullet reached his body.
Damari wished it was him on the other side of the gun. And the odd part about it, Andre was right besides him watching it amused;like it was his favorite tv show.
Damari couldn't stop thinking about it, Couldn't tell anyone about it. Couldn't cry, so drinking it was. He was only 17.
Damari thought he was safe, due to what East told him. But he wasn't, When Lontrell called it was about a robbery.
One of their friends had been robbed, and they were thinking it was the guys that was stealing from them already.
East had conflicted with them in past, The guy Damari had killed he was involved with them. Dee didn't care, if they would've known they already would've did something to him.
plus no one besides the people Dee really loved knew where he stayed. It was impossible for them to find him.
It was a thought on his subconscious.
Lontrell cared, he was scared. He didn't say it but Dee could see it on his face. "What do you think we should do?" Lontrell asked, handing over the blunt to Dee.
"I don't know what you finna do, but I'm going back to the crib with me girl. You should do that same." Damari inhaled.
"Man, be serious. I don't know what to do. You think we should call East?" he asked.
"Fuck we needa call him fa'?" He asked, furrowing his eyebrows. Trell rolled his eyes, pulling out his phone.
The phone rang for a second, until it ended. "Told you, Figure this shit out ourselves."
"Nigga don't care about shit me or you got going on. Fuck allat." He grumbled, becoming irritated with the conversation.
"Now let me get home to my girl." He said, dashing the blunt out in the ashtray in his car.
