Superior

Chapter Five: An Alternative Too

Chapter Five: An Alternative Too

Part: n/a

[Hope's POV]

Towering above me, a soared city building was my new home; being just next to the famous Central Park that makes Manhattan well known. Well actually, the building was only four stories high, but I was the lucky one who loved on the top apartment.

Night fell over my slumped shoulders, and I couldn't find a grasp on my silver edged keys. The rattle I longed for, I seemed almost desperate for them in a loony matter. Not to mention my official status with OCD labeled by my doctor: Davis.

"Damn' it, Hopie!" I muttered to myself in fury. I set my purse on the porch steps to allow myself to dig farther into my pockets just after searching viciously inside my tiny purse. The brisk wind whipped harsh at my frizzy locked hair, smacking me rigid with a frisky sneer as I grew more frustrated at myself. If this wasn't good enough, I might as well jump up and down for predators around, hollering in a defenseless tone, 'Rape me! Rape me!'

I shifted all my weight to one leg, jamming my hands into my back pockets: no jangle. What the hell was I gonna do?

Then suddenly, I heard my neighbor's window open, "Is that you, Rite?" An eerie voice cooed from next door across an airy window. I swiftly shot my gawk in the direction where it was coming from, finding Miss Fifi. A vivid colored hair-cap covered the cheetah curlers in her hair. Mostly, all of us in this part of the city were black, together we made up a minor community that always stuck to one another like a working piece. A human ant farm tucked away in one part of a big city.

I nodded while snatching my hands out my back pockets to swat the hair out of my partial vision, placing it slightly behind my ear. "I'm locked out, think you can let me in?"

She pursed her lips, jerking her head back on her wrinkly neck. "You ain't got yo keys with you?" I shook my head, bidding to plead with my bulky chocolate brown eyes in a helpless matter. "Alright, I'll send you Lil' Miles down with the keys."

I nodded once again, bending over to pick up my purse off the ground as she turned to call on him. I felt relieved to be able to go inside, I've been working at the grocery store all week and I finally received time off from it. Besides, I had nothing on my dulled agenda to do.

~ ~ ~

The shifty minutes swapped into hours of me sitting alone on the concrete steps. Miss Fifi had gone to bed because she had church to attend to in the morning, your typical aged woman from here.

I let out a sigh, placing my elbow on my knee, and my hand on my face in a bored way. The trees crinkled at the forceful wind power. "Poor trees," I muttered under my breath as I glared up at the shimmering stars above me. The cars from the mighty distance honked at each other, creating the lovely scene of New York we all know and love.

This almost forced me to hop backward in a sudden motion, but a drop of rain fell on my eyelash. Tangling in my fluttering lashes and then drooping onto my khaki shorts that came up at my belly button. After a few more drops, it all became to fall more rapidly, turning into a dreadful sequenced patter that I always cringed at: rain.

Eased, footsteps came up from behind me attempting to be silent, but they ended the moment I turned finding a man dressed in all black with a gun. "Follow me, now!" The voice demanded, jerking the jagged gun closer to me. Just what I expected. . .

I stood and followed, tensing whenever we passed up an alley. After the third alley, he got a hold on my arm and dragged me in, holding me up against the red bricked wall trying to weaken me. With this legit stereotypical 'alley scene', four more men my age creeped out the shadows carrying pointed weapons in their own in their crummy grip.

"Got us a light skinned bitch." The one who brought me here grinned like the reject he was, the others chuckled along, pending closer to me. He had a thick accent from the Bronx, it was easy to tell with their odd dialect. He pointed his finger at me with a crooked grin, "Ain't she cute? Look at 'er freckles on 'er cheeks."

Another stepped forward, raising his thick brows like he was the sexiest man on earth. "Naw man, she ain't as bad as that hoe we had last week; wasn't her name Shehika or something like that?"

An extra barked up a snicker in the back of the group, "It's Shemika." He corrected, almost everyone to turning their heads back at him. I guess he was the quiet one.

After the man who brought me here noticed my observing of him, he jerked me off the wall, and forward into a door at the back of the building I was held up against. The door caused me to want to cover my ears, but of course I couldn't because they were gripped tightly behind my back. I was soaking wet, but that didn't stop them in bringing me in their small flat.

"Welcome to the Bronx, darling." Another stated, pacing over to the cabinet. Great, a 'group' just like all the other gangs who claim to be from their because of their superior gangs. "We'd like to sell you some pot."

"Weed?" I questioned, being pushed onto the couch, still soaking wet.

"Yep, twenty dollars per ounce." The same said, coming over to me smoking a blunt. "So will you buy?"

I shook my head, doing my best to take in his lovely features for the cops. The others went into the cabinet, one by one, after him taking out a unique drug for each. I just sat there with my hands tied behind my back and watched like a lost puppy, anxious as hell. "Can I go now?"

One I haven't heard from shook his head while placing chewing tobacco into his mouth, mocking the way I did mine a few minutes ago. "We either rape you, or you buy."

"What if I don't have any money?" I attempted at a wince, staring him dead in the eyes with mine. As a child, I lived in the Bronx for a bit and I knew exactly what weakens the wanna be criminals.

"You've got some in your pockets. Trust me, Tayshawnn already them." A sneer came to his face, a kindly one that was probably apart of his little trick of his handsomeness.

He came my way, sitting next to me on the couch with a loud bounce. "C'mon, before we start it." His hand was suddenly placed in between my legs, creeping them up farther.

I muttered, shaking as bad as a Chihuahua, "Alright!" My hand went to my back pocket and I dug out fifty dollars, "Here, keep the change! Now can you undo my hands?"

He nodded, chuckling at my fright while undoing the tight knots, "Sure thing."

The moment I was free, I numbly dropped the money on the couch and ran out the door finding it pouring down raining. I was terrified, never in my whole life. With my thoughts telling me to run, it's just what I did. Blocks seemed to be lengthy miles as I tripped on the sidewalks numerous times, scrapping up my face; blood dripping in sync with my filled tears. In the distance, I watched the lightning strike with the noisy thunder following behind it.

I was out of breath, my lungs about to burst because of my asthma causing my throat to be blocked. Instead of standing in the rain to catch it, I went under a tree to protect myself from the viscous rain. I gasped with my hands on my knees, bent over in pain. With my hair pressed against my face I was helpless. I didn't seem it, I was it.

Abruptly, the exact second I glared up at the sky, the lightning swiftly stroke directly at a target: me. . .

# # #

I'm beginning to dedicate these upcoming chapters to the lovely readers who just keep coming back like... Beatles, (my lame joke). First one's going to @SuperStarrRingo for this idea that you probably just read. The next is a surprise!

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-Louie Becton | 2013