We Survived.

~ Four

• Friday, July 28th, 2017

It was 6:13 AM, and while Dorinda and Greg were sleeping peacefully, their two youngest children were wide awake and making a crazy mess in DJ's bedroom. They had toys and cereal (the closest thing they could reach downstairs) everywhere.

DJ: Oo Kash, you want to paint?

The younger sibling nodded her head, excited to do her favorite activity.

Kashmir: Mommy paints too?

DJ: No, Mommy and Pop are sleeping still, so shhh, and don't wake them up.

Dion grabbed the chair from his desk, pushed it over to his bookcase, and then pulled down the art supplies from the top shelf.

Kashmir: DJ strong!

DJ: You think I'm strong like Jay Jay?

Kashmir: Mhm hm, Jay Jay.

DJ smiled at his sister's comment; he wanted to be like Jay so badly. His big brother was truly his hero. strong, brave, and smart. Plus, Greg seemed proud of Jay, and DJ wanted that for himself too.

DJ: Are you going to draw Pop a picture?

Kashmir: No, Mommy.

DJ: No, Kash, I'm making mommy a picture.

The boy pulled out the art supplies and gave Kash a piece of paper, a brush, and her favorite color paint.

Kashmir: Pink!

DJ: Yeah, good job. Now make Pop his picture.

Kashmir: No, mommy.

DJ: Uh, fine.

DJ rolled his eyes before opening each jar of paint. Kashie's eyes light up, immediately reaching for the purple paint.

DJ: No, one at a time.

Kashmir: Purple!

The siblings began playing tug-a-war with the paint. DJ put down his brush, using both his hands to snatch the jar from his sister. After successfully getting it out of her grip, the boy stood up but immediately fell forward, causing the purple paint in his hands to go forward, spilling all over Kashmir. And he fell on all the jars he opened when they began painting.

DJ: Ouch!

Kashmir: Mommy!!

Both kids began crying, instantly waking Dorinda, who came running into DJ's bedroom within 40 seconds.

Dorinda: Oh, my goodness, what are you all doing?

Both kids ran to their mother, sobbing.

Dorinda: Jesus, is this paint?

DJ: Mommy, Kashmir spilled my paint all over the room, and now it's in my hair and my pajamas.

The boy managed to get out in between sobs. Dorinda held both of them close, trying to stop their cries.

Dorinda: It's okay, babies. Stop crying, DJ. Why are you holding your head? Let me see.

He put his head on her lap, letting Doe inspect his head. As she pressed her hand around DJ, he remained calm until she touched his forehead.

DJ: Ouch, that hurts!

Suddenly Greg burst into the room with his gun in hand, looking around at all the destruction, then setting his sights on Dion Jr.

Greg: Get the hell over here!

DJ: No, I'm sorry, Daddy; I didn't mean it.

Greg grabbed DJ's arm, yanking him out of Dorinda's grip.

Dorinda: Gregory, no!

Greg: No Doe, I'm sick of this!

He dragged Dion into the hallway and down into their bedroom, locking the door. Doridna banged on the door, telling Greg to let her in.

DJ: Dad I'm so sorry I didn't

Greg: Be quiet; I'm tired of you destroying this house and getting away with it!

Greg sat on the bed, placing DJ on his lap and laying him flat on his stomach.

DJ: Pop, please don't spank me.

Greg: I'm not going to spank you; I'm about to whoop your ass, boy.

On the other side of the door, Dorinda was shaking, hearing the cries of her baby boy as her husband "disciplined" him.

Kashmir: Mommy, DJ cry.

Dorinda: I hate your Dad.

Doe brought Kash into her bedroom, quickly wiping her down and changing her clothing, then headed downstairs, placing the kid in the high chair before going into the refrigerator and gathering the eggs, bacon, milk, and bread (she liked keeping it cold).