The "Boondock" Kids

<~~Thanks to EbbzDances for showing me this perfect pic! Ladies and gentlemen....Nakeem Freeman

*****

Everyone was asleep. Everyone except for Nakeem. He kept rolling over and over again, not feeling comfortable like he used to, instead feeling watched.

He's watching me.

Eventually he shot up and gripped his dreadlocks in agitation. He looks over at his sister who sleeps on the couch, groaning every now and then in her sleep. He lies back down with a sigh and closes his eyes.

A nine year old Nakeem and an eight year old Trisha went to visit their Granddaddy at his house in Woodcrest. Their father had left them there and went to do his 'errands.' While their Granddaddy was inside on the phone talking to someone he called 'cutie pie,' the kids played outside with a tennis ball their mother had gotten them.

Nakeem had thrown the ball too far. It bounced off the yard and onto the pavement, rolling all the way down. Trisha had glared at him. "You homo!"

Nakeem just looked at her with an annoyed expression, sucking his teeth. He turned around and ran after the rolling ball. It took a while before the ball was stopped by a rock. Nakeem picked it up and looked up. He gasped.

He had been so distracted, he didn't notice how his surroundings had changed. He swallowed as he looked around for the way he came from. Then he looked up. He squinted his eyes at a distant tree up ahead. "Cool..." he whispered. He didn't know why, but he just felt that he had to go there. Without thinking, he shoved the ball into his hoody pocket and ran to that tree. He noticed it was on a hill and frowned for a moment before he kept going.

Soon he was at the top. He breathed hard, tired from his run as he walked around the tree. "Whoooaaa...." he whispered, seeing the view of Woodcrest, all the way at the top. "Cool..." he stood at the edge, the light wind blew through his small afro, that had not been braided at the time. For a long moment he looked down at the view, admiring the tiny buildings and tiny people.

"Breathtaking, isn't it?"

Nakeem gasped as he whipped his whole body around. Next to the tree was a figure, a pale white man dressed weirdly with shades. Nakeem shivered.

"Relax, kid. I won't hurt you."

"....my mommy says that I shouldn't talk to strangers..."

The white man just looked at him with a tilted head, then looked back at the view. Nakeem couldn't take his eyes off him, he was scary...yet at the same time, intriguing.

"Who're you?" Nakeem asked.

"...can you tell me a secret, kid."

"....."

"Tell me, little boy," the man squatted so they were eye level, although Nakeem kept his distance at the edge of the hill. "Has your dad ever hit you?"

Nakeem cringed and shook his head furiously.

"Has he ever hurt you in anyway? Or anybody else?"

"No. Daddy never hurt anyone...why?"

The man shrugged. He smiled. "Evidence." He stood up straight.

"What's evidence?"

The man just chuckled. "It was nice talking to you kid..." He walked around the tree and disappeared around the back. Nakeem ran to his last spot, confused about where he was. "....." He felt himself shiver.