❝𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐃𝐄❞

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞

Devon

How it feel livin' in the ghetto? Hell, how don't it feel? That's what I be askin' myself. Got this old TV my momma scraped up enough from her day job to afford, colored lucky enough, and every day I see pictures of them big-ass houses, shiny-ass cars, and tall golden gates. At one point, I straight up thought I was lookin' at heaven. Inside them gates, all the houses match, yards so green you'd swear no dog even think 'bout shittin' on it. It look so peaceful, so damn quiet. I can see myself wakin' up there, breathin' actual air—real fresh, sweet air. God, it's beautiful.

But you know what else I see? White. Everythin' white. White folks, white dogs, white kids runnin' 'round, all of it. Ain't no dark-skinned niggas messin' up that peace, no nappy hair needin' straighten' out. Ain't no me in that world I'm dreamin' about.

So, what that mean? Mean I'm trapped here? Maybe. I might never see that shit up close, but that don't mean I won't try. Ain't nobody like me out there, but I'ma be the first. I want to be the first.

What it like, livin' in the ghetto? It's like suffocatin'. Most folks round here don't see themselves nowhere but here—forever. Fight or get eaten, inside or out, so they choose to fight and stay. Fear live here. Ain't no hope left on these pavements—just shit, blood, and bodies. Most gave up a long time ago.

But not me. Nah, never me. I want out, and by God, I will.

I glanced over at my momma. Her knees gotta be screamin', yet another Sunday spent up at the church, tryna pray away all the bad energy. I jerked, eyes driftin' to my baby sis, Kali. She bored out her damn mind, chappin' her lips  still chewin' the gum Momma slapped out her mouth 'fore we came in.

I winced when she blew a bubble and popped it. Disrespectful little rat.

I rolled my eyes.

The service was just about done. Pastor Roy stood by the door, claspin' hands with everyone as they made their way out. He stopped to chat with my momma, of course. Oh lord, here we go again. Another long wait.

"Oh my god, can Momma hurry the hell up..." Kali grumbled next to me, arms folded tight across her chest. She shifted in place, pullin' down her already short dress over her knees like she always do.

I ignored her cussin'. Come on, girl, I know Momma raised you better than that. "Just go wait in the car."

"Nah, I ain't tryna deal with Jelani right now," she said, waving her hand in the air like somebody runnin' their mouth. "He always yappin' in my ear, ugh. He so damn annoying. Like, why Momma even invite him? He the last person that should be here."

She never miss a chance to come at Jelani, our older brother. Usually, he drop us off then go 'bout his business—God knows doin' what. But today, he stuck around. Didn't come in for the service though, much to Momma's disappointment. He just sat in the car waitin'. My brother is... somethin', I guess.

"It's obvious Momma feelin' Pastor Roy," Kali said outta nowhere. She really don't know when to shut up.

I gasped. "The hell, Kali...! That's nasty," I snapped. "And dead wrong. Why you always gotta say wild shit like that?"

She shrugged, chewin' on that old, dried-out piece of gum. "Grow up," she said, rollin' her eyes. "Old as Momma is, she still gotta get her mozzarella dipped."

My body jerked, and I turned away, hand coverin' my mouth. "You're sick," I managed to spit out before I walked off.

As I left the building, Kali's words kept stickin' with me. She's so damn ratchet. Who even thinks like that about their own momma? Is that what she learnin' at school? Lord, help her. I spotted Jelani's car, and like always, I couldn't help but admire it. That slick, dark BMW was like lookin' at a dream. But the closer I got, my admiration shifted to awkwardness, remembering I gotta sit alone in the car...with Jelani.