Be My Peace//NBA YOUNGBOY (Completed)

01

"Everyday I'm flashing out, I really need some help."

He stared at the medication that was "spilled" in the toilet. Tragic. He weighed the options of: Tell his pharmacist and have his mom find out, or just wait it out until the next appointment for conflict management.

Option B looked good.

He flushed the pills down the toilet, a small smile creeping over his face. That was the biggest show of personality for him in a while. It felt good.

The medications allowed him no personality. Numbness. At least there was no pain.

It was for the best.

A knock at the door distracted him from the swirl of pills going down.

"You almost done?" His sister's voice caught his attention. He opened the bathroom door and walked past her, not looking her in the eye as she walked in.

She sighed, feeling her heart sink at his changes. Her worried thoughts were short lived at the feeling of something under her shoe. She squinted at the white, chalk like mark on the sole. She looked down at the tiled floor, staring at a partially crushed pill on the ground.

"Ma, I think he doing it again." She admitted after sitting with her for a while. His mother got up and busted into his room.

"You been taking your pills?"

"Yes, mama." He says, turning towards the door.

"Where the bottle?" She asked. He sat still, staring back at her. He pulls the empty bottle from his pocket, face blank. She walked over and slapped him upside his head.

"Ma!" Kendell stepped in the doorframe, giving her a mean look.

"Mind your business." She tells him, turning back to Kentrell.

"Move, mama." He says sternly, moving his head.

"Why you keep flushing these damn pills down the toilet? Expensive ass shit!" She strikes him again.

"You don't pay for them!" He snapped, getting aggravated. She snatched the pill bottle from his hand.

"You still got to take them, stupid!" She stressed, throwing the empty bottle at his face. It hit him in the cheek and bounced off. Something finally clicked.

He jumped up and stood over her, pushing her away.

"Stop putting your hands on me." He told her, turning around to walk away.

"Or what, bitch? Ooo, you make me sick!" He turned around and raised his fist, but quickly stopped himself.

"Man, gone somewhere, mama." He flopped on his bed, grabbing his phone. She continued to complain, but he just blocked her out. He clicked on FaceTime and sighed as she slammed his bedroom door.

"Hey, Kentrell." The girl's voice was like music to his ears. The girl's name was Yvette. No, this wasn't his girlfriend, but she made him happy.

"Waddup Yvette?" He greeted her in a bothered voice.

"Trell, what's wrong?"

"Everything." He told her, taking a deep breath.

"You in the mood to talk about it?"

"No." He knew if he told her about the pills, she would be disappointed.

"I think you should go for a walk." She tells him, knowing not to push him to talk. Yvette knew about his problems and knew how to deal with them well. That's how Kentrell fell in love—came to like her.

"Girl, I got a quarter million dollar car, what I need to walk for?" He joked.

"To clear your head—safely." She smiles, realizing—despite him being upset—he had a glow to him. He stood up, cutting on the room light.

"Why you staring at me?" Kentrell asked, putting on a black hoodie. He asked because she stopped looking at her laptop.

"You got a haircut?" He smiles.

"Yeah." Kentrell takes a second to look at Yvette. She was just an ordinary high school girl who was insecure about...everything. Her simplicity made him gravitate toward her.

"That lil nigga still bothering you at school?" His calm face suddenly turned into a mean expression. She bites her lip, looking away.

"No."

"You lying." He said simply. Another thing about Yvette, she didn't live in Louisiana. Kentrell couldn't fight everybody that stepped to her wrong, even if he really wanted to. He snatched up an old android that sat on his dresser.

"What he do?" He asked, grabbing his actual phone and walking towards his bedroom door.

"Nothing."

"Lie again, ma." Yvette sighs nervously as Kentrell pulls up his homie's contact. He lived in her city. He quietly made it out of the front door and began his walk down the street into the night.

"He grabbed my butt. It's not that serious." He put his phone in his hoodie for a moment, using his free hands to spark a cigar.

"That nigga assaulting you. He lucky I ain't there, I woulda been put that nigga in a casket." Kentrell says flatly, texting his homie. He put a couple of stacks on the boy's head as they spoke.

He didn't play about Yvette, at all.

An incoming call brought him back to his disappointing reality.

Jania, his girlfriend, was calling.
*