Love Joy

THE EXAMPLE

"Hey baby. You working?"

Love just kept walking. She had been in this situation many times before. It was getting late, but the sidewalk was still fairly crowded - mostly with crackheads, bums and old drunks. The streets were in need of repair, scattered with massive potholes. The buildings were old, run down and barely functioning. Focusing on the task at hand, Love just kept walking. Ignoring the taunts coming from the 86 Handi hooptie.

"Hey bitch! I know you hear me with yo fine ass."

Men can be so harsh  she thought. Tonight she had a plan to end all her problems and she wasn't about to let this low life, thirsty ass dude ruin it.

"Get the fuck on nigga. Ain't nobody on that shit." she shouted.

At this point, Love was heartless. She had been through it all.

The car came to a screeching halt. The driver threw the car in park and jumped out. Got damn here we go again. Love reached into her Gucci purse - just not quick enough. The trick grabbed her frail neck and threw her body up against the brick wall.

"You must be out yo fucking mind. Don't ever talk to me like that bitch. I'll kill you."

Barely able to breath as his grip tightened, she realized this was not a trick. This was a pimp. Not just any pimp either, but the same one she watch kill her best friend a couple of months ago. Tears filled her eyes and fear flooded her bloodstream instantly. Damn I don't wanna die like this is all Love kept thinking.

He loosened his grip and she fell to her knees gasping for air. No one attempted to help or even ask her if she was alright. They just passed as if they seen nothing. She could have been the scraps of litter on the street everyone ignored. Damien was nothing to play with. He was the definition of fear. This mutherfucker didn't give two shits about your life or his.

                                                                           LOVE

......the night he murdered my friend, I can remember it like it was yesterday. Damien told her right before he ended her life, he was going to make an EXAMPLE out of her.

We all set at his kitchen table drinking, snorting coke, and listening to old school R&B. Felisha was no spring chicken. She was a beast in these streets. She pretty much raised me as far as stripping and turning tricks go. She taught me how to get money. She even showed me how to suck a dick properly without actually sucking dick. Yep. You heard me. Sucking dick without sucking dick. You would be surprised what a whole lot of spit and a good hand job can do. Thanks to her, my mouth was saved from a lot of nasty old fucks.

As usual, Damien asked us to break bread. Meaning to put everything we made that night on the table. I placed my $1200 down, took a shot of my cranberry and Ciroc, and made my way to the bathroom. I could still hear Felisha singing to Xscape (What I need from you is understanding...) and for a hoe, she had a pretty decent voice. Then the music went completely silent. I wiped myself, flushed the toilet, and walked out in the middle of some bullshit.

Damien stood there with this dull, numb look on his face. He always looked mad, but this look was evil to say the least. To this day, I still have no idea what she said to him.

"Bitch I must have STUPID written across my forehead?" he growled.

Felisha laughed, eased her chair back, grabbed her glass of Ciroc, and slung it across the room barely missing Damien like it was as common as eating dinner.

"Nigga I'm tired of yo shit. You ain't nothing with out me bitch. I made you!" she taunted.

Damien wiped the liquor from the side of his face looking as if he wasn't fazed by a damn thing she just said. I turned around to go into the bedroom because I wanted no parts of that ass beating I knew was coming. "Uh un, Love. You stay yo ass right there. I'm about to make an example out of this bitch! Sit yo ass down." he instructed.

Felisha took off running heading for the kitchen. Damien was on her heels. Just as she made it to the kitchen drawer, he pulled the back of her hair and slammed her to the floor.

"Oh bitch, you trying to kill me?"

"Fuck you, Damien! Go ahead. Beat me like the little bitch you are."

Without hesitation Damien drew back and punched the shit out of her. He hit her so hard I swear I felt it. With her mouth and nose all bloody, she just laughed. Either she was use to it, or all that coke and alcohol made her numb. My stomach turned at the sight of all that blood.

"Love! Get yo ass in here." he yelled. I jumped to my feet quick as hell trying to act normal as possible. "Get this crazy bitch out of my face." 

I reached down to grab her hand to help her get on her feet, but she yanked away.

"Get up Felisha." I said, grabbing her by the wrist. She rose to her feet and before I knew it, she had the cast iron skillet from the stove in her hands and smacked Damien in the back of the head. His body slumped to the floor.

"Oh shit bitch, what the fuck you just do?"

We ran out of the kitchen to the bedroom. "Grab everything you can, we have to get out of here before he wakes up." said Felisha. It wasn't long before we both realized that he was standing in the bedroom doorway. Without a word being said we both knew that shit was about to get real. Damien reached into his pocket and pulled something out. He walked casually over to Felisha, grabbed her by her weave, pulled her head back and slit her throat.

I have never seen so much blood before in my life. I stood there in shock. I couldn't cry, scream or move. I just stood there. Damien looked me dead in the eyes and said "If you ever speak of this moment again or tell a soul bitch, you next." I was forced to help him dispose of her body that night. It had to be the worst day of my life. Needless to say, when the police or anybody came around with questions, I always act like I didn't know shit. Always saying the last time I seen her was with some trick. I couldn't even bring myself to say her name after that night.

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