The Hood Changed Me (Urban Fiction)

Chapter Three

"No! Noooo" I screamed as the two men pulled me from under the bed.

They instantly wrapped their hand around my mouth making me have a hard time to breath. I had never experienced anything like this before.

"Shut the fuck up little bitch!" One of the men said as he slapped me across the face.

My face literally burned as if i were in hell and the flames were scorching up my body.

The man covered his hand harder on my face, I could feel his nails digging into my young skin.

"Aye my nigga, you hear that?"  The other boy called out.

"Hear what?" The man who had his hand over my mouth spoke.

"Oh shit it's the police, nigga let's bounce!"

The man then released his hands from my body and escaped from the window in my room.

I was breathing hard as ever, breathing so hard I was sure that anybody who came near me could hear it themselves.

I walked out of my room the best way i could because i was so nervous that my legs turned into noodles.

I walked inside of my parents room.

And what i had saw was something I could never unsee for the rest of my life.

"Da—Dad are— Noo, Please Lor—" I began to say in broken words. My dad was laying on the bedroom floor, hopeless, useless, dead, unstable, and unconscious.

I couldn't even stand the look of this, it broke my fucking heart. It tore me straight apart, it left a vacant hole in my heart.

"Are you okay? Young lady are you okay?" Some random police asked me.

I didn't even respond. How the fuck could you ask me if I were okay in a situation like this.

Not only was I only 8 years old, I would never ever see my dad again. Never in my life. All i had left were my thoughts and memories of him.

"Wake up Layla, time for us to head to your new school."

School wow school. I didn't even wanna go there after the dream I just had.

It was really sad that I had to keep having these same dreams about the same shit.

The same shit

"Mom can we talk about something?"

"Sure honey, go ahead."

I had to muster up a actual sentence, well if you know what i mean.. how could i try to talk to my mom about my fathers death and my dreams about him.

"I miss dad mom, I really miss him like I can never have a regular dream ma, it's always some shit about dad dying or how he died or some old memories ma I can't do this. I cant." I told my mom as tears fell down my cheeks, I didnt even notice that so many tears were down my face. "Sorry for cursing."

My mom was just starring at me, like she didn't know what to say.

"Sweetie, I know you miss him, hell i miss him.. but i can't talk about this, i've been trying to be happy and this, this can't keep me happy. It's apart of life, we live, we see, and we die. Its a cycle, nothing we can do about it. He's in a much better place though, and I'm happy for that. Not wipe them damn tears and get dressed. I love you."