𝘽𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙞𝙣, 𝘽𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙤𝙪𝙩.
This was the saying for many of those who ran with the Southside. In a story where two people reconnect over a terrible loss, they pour into each-other while mourning the loss of their beloved cousin and friend. W...
❝Why the hell she know I'm toxic, but still fuck with me. It's plentiful right now I'm still pouring on a pint of V.❞ — Go, Moneybagg Yo & Big30
JEFFERY "SAINT" AMARE BROWN OCTOBER 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐 RUSH Uni. Med Center, IL.
The constant beeping of hospital monitors and various voices filled Saint's ears as he groaned in pain from the bumpy ride on the gurney. His vision was blurry as ever as he attempted to sit up. He was immediately pushed back down as the doctors told him off, he was confused and now starting to get irritated.
He didn't know how he got here or why he was here until he looked down at his denim wash Amiri's, the denim being drenched in what he figured was blood. His heart started beating overtime as his body went into shock seeing all the blood. Saint's shirt was also stained red as it was torn on his chest, leaving the bullet wound on his chest visible.
From what his barely coherent mind could gather he'd been shot, two or three times. That was the least of his concerns as he came too, he knew he wasn't alone all day so where was Symir?
"Sir, we need you to relax! You've been shot multiple times and we need to get you to surgery." A white woman spoke as a team of nurses rushed him into the operating room.
"Where Scoom! Yo' listen to me, I was with my brother, where is he!?" Saint yelled, using all the energy he had to ask these questions as his wounds gushed blood.
The team looked between eachother with confusion as they didn't recognize anything he was saying, "Symir Woods! If I was shot so was he- fuck!" Saint shrieked as they transferred him from the gurney to the table as his energy was still high despite being hit multiple times.
"We'll find him sir, you need to relax. You've been shot near a main artery and we need to operate." The woman assured him as she strapped a breathing mask across his face, he grabbed at it with his bloody hands before everything went black. They had to put him under to be able to operate due to his belligerence.
The nurse who promised Saint she'd find out about his situation did just that as she ran out of the room, making her way to the front desk as she went to ask a question about the young man. Her attention was ripped away from the attendant as another GSW victim was rolled in on a gurney, more blood than she'd ever seen in her 15 years of working in Chicago.
The woman was shook as she took action, making her way toward the gurney seeing the boy couldn't be a day over the age of 18, his facial features young and soft. "Two gunshot wounds to the side and one to the left hand!" The paramedic yelled as they removed his clothes to get a better look at the wounds. The two wounds on his sides were overlapping which caused the immense loss of blood. The hospital had to act quick.
The nurse went through his pockets looking for some type of identification as she pulled a landyard out his blood drench jeans, it held his highschool ID, many lighters and a picture of what could be him, a young girl and boy.
She read over the ID, the name being the exact one the man had told her earlier. She glanced from the ID photo where he was smiling brightly to the bloody mess infront of her. The killing had to stop is all the older woman could think.
..... Eight Hours Earlier.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
