Hey sweets 🍭
Are my Cg's all Jamaican? Drop your flags.
📍HAMBANI ESTATES, KINGSTON 6
N I C K O I
ɴɪᴄᴋᴏɪ
Walking up the stairs with Diamonté, one hand securing her head against my chest, I furrow my eyebrows reaching for my phone that keeps ringing.
Who a call dung man phone? The two a dem at that?
One's ringing from the sofa, one's ringing in my back pocket. I stop walking, pull it out and press it to my ear.
A frantic Juaqína speaks.
"Dem send polic-" she's interrupted, I hear shuffles then the call ends. Not even two seconds after and someone else is calling. Luckily, it's Christina.
I swipe the call. She's even sounding worst, she's speeding too.
"Zaraandsomegirlsgotinafight!" Christina says in one breath.
"Only Zara mi hear eno," my eyes already growing dark.
She takes a deep breath.
"I'm heading to you in her car right now to take Zhari so you can head back to the Burger King," she's speaking in circles.
Man head a chip out eno.
"Christina? Christina yaw hear me?" My voice comes out harsh.
Cyaa help that.
"Yes," she says
"Wah yuh say happ'm?" I turn back, heading down the stairs.
"Zara and some girl got in a fi-" I interrupt her with a cold.
"Wah!"
Fight?
Gyal gang my woman?
Dem wah mi murdaaa the wul a dem? Dem try nuh mek a scratch deh pan my woman.
"Yes her mom came to help her so I called Juaqína to come by, so I'm heading to the house now to take Zhari from you so you're able to go and see what's happe-" she's cut off again.
This time it's a call from Genius. I hang up and answer it.
"Bro yuh see wah gwaan on the media?" is his question.
I don't say anything. Too angry to form words, a just sup'm mi wah kill. I grab my keys and walk towards my Benz.
My daughter now awake, staring up at me. I peck her cheeks.
Genius continues.
"Zara and har mother get lock up bro and the police have her on the ground and mi a wonder if a never she just give birth," he says making my blood boil.
Have mi baby mother pan grung?
Every single hair on my body sticks up. Anger consumes me, I get in the car with Zy'ra in my arm and skid off.
"Dem mussi wah man bun dung the police station," I say in a deadly tone.
"Jah Jah.." Genius mutters. "They won the fight based on the videos I'm seeing."
YOU ARE READING
Not My Type 3: Alternate World
RomanceRemember that regular degular 21-year-old who had it all figured out? Well, surprise! Back to 16 we go, where teenage chaos reigns supreme and I'm just your average girl, in an alternate world as St. Hugh's pride and joy and head girl extraordinate...
