Jarrell's Journey

*Chapter 24: Betrayal in the Darkness

Jerrell's visits to his mother's apartment continued, but over time, he began to notice unsettling changes. Items around the apartment started to go missing-his mother's jewelry, the TV remote, small appliances. Dana and Chubb often stayed out all night, their absence a growing source of worry for Jerrell. That familiar sinking feeling from his younger years crept back into his heart, a gnawing sense of dread.

He tried to ignore it, clinging to the hope that his mother's promises were true, that Chubb really had changed. But deep down, Jerrell feared the worst.

One evening, Jerrell was supposed to sleep over at Malik's house. They were playing video games, trying to unwind from the stress of the day, but a fight broke out over the game. Tensions flared, and Malik threw the controller across the room.

"Man, you always do this!" Jerrell shouted, his frustration boiling over.

"Do what?" Malik shot back. "You're the one who can't handle losing!"

"Fuck this," Jerrell muttered, grabbing his coat. "I'm going to my mom's place."

Malik's expression softened, but he didn't say anything. He knew better than to try and stop Jerrell when he was this upset. Jerrell stormed out of the apartment, his mind racing as he walked the short distance to his mother's building. He needed the comfort of her presence, the assurance that despite everything, she was still there for him.

When he arrived, the apartment was dark. Jerrell called out, "Mom? Chubb?"

There was no answer. He felt his way through the darkness, his anxiety growing with each step. As he approached the bedroom, he heard muffled voices and the creak of the bed.

"Mom?" he called again, his voice trembling.

He pushed open the door, and the sight that met his eyes drained the life out of him. His mother, Dana, was in bed with one of the neighborhood drug dealers. The man's presence, his familiarity, was like a punch to the gut.

Dana screamed, "Close the damn door, Jerrell!"

Jerrell stood frozen, his mind struggling to process what he was seeing. The room spun around him, and he felt a wave of nausea.

"Mom, what...what are you doing?" he stammered, his voice barely a whisper.

The man in the bed chuckled, a dark, mocking sound. "Looks like the kid caught you, Dana."

Dana pulled the covers up, her face contorted with a mix of shame and anger. "Jerrell, get out. Now."

Jerrell turned and fled the room, the door slamming behind him. He stumbled into the living room, his heart pounding in his chest. He sank onto the couch, his whole body trembling. Tears streamed down his face, but he didn't make a sound. He felt utterly emotionless and heartless, as if every ounce of hope and love had been drained from him.

Minutes felt like hours as he sat there, his mind replaying the scene over and over. He couldn't understand how his mother could do this to him, how she could let him down so completely.

Eventually, Dana emerged from the bedroom, her face pale and drawn. She sat down across from him, avoiding his gaze.

"Jerrell, I'm sorry," she began, her voice hollow. "I didn't mean for you to see that."

Jerrell looked up, his eyes filled with a cold, hollow fury. "Why, Mom? Why are you doing this again? I thought you were clean."

Dana's eyes filled with tears. "I...I slipped, Jerrell. It's hard, you know? I'm trying, but sometimes...it's just too hard."

"Hard?" Jerrell's voice was filled with incredulous anger. "You promised me, Mom! You said things would be different. You said Chubb was different."

Dana shook her head, sobbing. "I know, I know. I'm sorry. I just...I'm weak, Jerrell. I'm so weak."

Jerrell stood up, his fists clenched at his sides. "I can't do this anymore, Mom. I can't keep watching you destroy yourself."

Dana reached out, but Jerrell stepped back, his face a mask of pain and betrayal. "Please, Jerrell, don't leave."

Jerrell shook his head, tears streaming down his face. "I have to. I can't stay here and watch you throw your life away."

He turned and walked out of the apartment, not looking back. The night air hit him like a slap in the face, but he welcomed the cold, hoping it would numb the pain inside. He wandered the streets for hours, his mind a whirlwind of anger and sorrow.

Eventually, he found himself back at Malik's house. Malik opened the door, his expression softening when he saw Jerrell's tear-streaked face.

"What happened?" Malik asked quietly.

Jerrell shook his head, unable to find the words. "I...I just can't, man. I can't do this anymore."

Malik nodded, stepping aside to let him in. "You don't have to do it alone, Jerrell. We're here for you. Always."

Jerrell nodded, but the words felt hollow. He had lost so much, and he didn't know if he could ever find his way back to feeling whole again. As he lay on the couch in Malik's living room, he stared up at the ceiling, feeling the weight of the world pressing down on him.