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"What came before never really mattered all too much until now"
TAYLOR "Love doesn't fade." •
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How did I get myself into this shit? I mean, really, how did I get here? I don't even remember agreeing to this shit. Oh yeah, I didn't agree.
"Taylor! Hurry up, nigga, pass me the gun." Chris yelled at me, his hand out as I whined.
The air in the predominantly black hood was breezy, making me rub my arms with discomfort as I looked around. The streetlights were on shining down on the middle of the road right in front of the house we were standing in front of, a faint bark from a random dog sounding every now and again as soft laughter could be heard down the street most likely from some drug dealers lurking.
"I really don't want to do this, Chris." I complained, looking around suspiciously as if someone would be watching us at this time of night. He looked back at me and turned his lip up in irritation, his forehead wrinkling up.
"You don't really have a choice. You here now, ain't you? I don't give a fuck what you want to do, you owe me." He said, holding his hand out and lowering his voice. "Now, hand me the fucking gun."
I smacked my lips and handed him the gun from inside my pink Nike duffle bag. If I go to jail for this, man... I thought, looking around again. I was paranoid and agitated. I was really being forced to be a part of this. God, can you hear me? I'm sorry for everything I've done wrong but if you get me out of this I'll turn right over to you, go to church with my sisters, keep my lil' virginity, and all that. Just please, don't let him unlock this door and take that woman's life. She don't deserve that.
I haven't prayed this long since my mother got in the hospital with lupus last month. This was all too much. I watched Chris pick the lock as if that would suddenly make him stop and say "Well! Can't get in, let's go home", but to no avail. Seconds later, the lock clicked and he opened it slowly as he held the gun in his free hand. I looked up at the sky.
