A Slum Love Crime. (A$AP Rocky Story)

Part Ventotto

As I flipped through the pages of Anne Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl, my bottom lip quivered and I held back the lump in my throat. I couldn’t even swallow; if I did, the tears would somehow come.

I didn’t quite know what I felt. It could be regret for lying to Rakim, or confusion. Maybe even self-pity. But it was most likely a mixture of all these things and more that I was feeling. I clenched my jaw, exhaled, and continued to read the pages of the book and examine the black-and-white pictures.

She was a narrow-faced girl with a hopeful smile. She clearly states in her diary that most times, this smile didn’t grace her face. How could you smile in such an unpredictable, saddening situation?

Anne Frank’s emotional dilemma is much like mine. She didn’t know what would happen next. Neither do I. Her environment was dangerous. So is mine. She’s scared, still managing to cling to some kind of hope, and in hiding. I’m all of that too.

But the difference between Anne and I is that she didn’t have all these people around her, talking to her, expecting things from her, judging her. I’ve been blessed with this curse of luxury.

“They’re going to be using Vanessa as a decoy,” Danny said, writing some notes down on the Smart-Board in the main area. I almost didn’t realize he was referring to my mother.

All of us sat in the main area, taking notes as he wrote key things on the board. It was like a classroom. It reminded me of school, of my friends, of Kevon.

I miss him. But the fact that he’s not here is helping me with self-control and discipline. I couldn’t control myself when he was here. Now I have a little more peace.

“So expect to see lies weaved into this situation. Expect deception and trickery. Maybe even prostitution, too.” Danny said. He wrote this on the board. When Danny mentioned prostitution, Ferg looked at me apologetically. I didn’t mind, though. I knew my mother wouldn’t stoop so low.

“What about the guys that visited the spot we used to stay in?” Twelvy asked. Danny paused and looked at Twelvy.

“They’ve been found. They’re already locked up.” He said. He picked up his laptop, typed something in, and then showed it to Twelvy. We all swarmed around Twelvy, trying to see what Danny was showing him. It was an article on the men that confronted us.

Twelvy enlarged the pictures for us to see. When I saw them, a strange rush of déjà vu came over me. Then I remembered.

The ones that ran away, who are now in trial, were Chase and Vick. They were some of the guys who posed a threat at my school a few months back. The one that got shot in the shoulder, who is also in trial, was a guy I couldn’t recognize. The one who was shot in the knee, who is LJ, the driver that day, is getting his knee replaced. And lastly, the one that Rakim murdered, is King.

He’s the one who gave me that oil for my lip. He’s the one that spoke to me the most. He’s the one I pitied.

“They didn’t have to end up like that,” I muttered. It was lingering in my mind, and I didn’t quite mean to say it.

“The other option was to get killed.” Nast replied sternly. I rolled my eyes.

“Anyway, back to the topic.” Danny interrupted us. “I heard Mango has a daughter. He could be  using her for manipulation, too.”

The room fell silent. Everyone looked at me, then at Rakim, and back at Danny. Danny caught on to the awkward moment and obviously wanted to know what was going on. I just sat there, shaking my head. So the one detail Rakim chose to leave out of his explanation to Danny was one of the most important ones.