Snatched (August Alsina)

Chapter 20: All My Fault

After August left, I decided I'd delay my thoughts over what just happened for before I sleep tonight. I walked down the hallway towards the living room with tears slowly trickling down my face. Crying used to be a rare thing for me and now I'm more comfortable with it; I can't help but let it happen anymore.

I wiped my tears as I entered the living room, where Mike was sitting up, his expression full of confusion and alarm. When he looked at me, the sight of a blackened eye and dried up blood under his nose made me feel even worse... poor Cliff.

"Whoa, you alright?" He asked in a groggy voice.

"More importantly, are you alright?" I asked, sitting down on the couch next to him. "Do you remember what happened to you?"

"Yea, I remember" He replied. "I'll be fine... why you cryin'?" He looked down at the area under my eyes where the tears had dampened and wiped them away with his shirt sleeve.

I was crying from being so overwhelmed about everything. My life is just rolling downhill and It seems like every time even the slightest little bit of happiness creeps in on me, something comes in and ruins it, usually hurting someone I like along the way.

"Don't worry about it" I mumbled, wiping away more tears and not crying any more of them. "Um, I found out about August being a drug dealer and shit."

"That's the thing about him I was talkin' about when I told you to be careful around him" Cliff pointed out. "Drug dealers be dangerous"

"I guess" I shrugged. "Uh, hey, I'm really sorry about what August did to you."

"I'll be ight, that nigga gon' pay though" He said, a vengeful look taking over his face. "Anyway, I better get home, my family prolly worryin' and shit."

"You car keys are on the counter" I replied, nodding towards the counter. "See you some other time, I guess."

"See you" He answered back with a weak grin.

When he left, I sighed and stood up from my couch, immediately having a thought enter my mind as to what to do next. I made my way to a closet in the hallway, where we kept random shit in. As I expected, there was a big box inside, which I pulled out and dragged back to the open area between the kitchen and the living room. Sitting criss-crossed on the floor I opened the top, revealing scrapbooks, albums, envelopes, and photos everywhere... I didn't even know where to start, so I moved my hand around aimlessly inside and fished out a scrapbook at random. I personally thought it had a really cute appearance to it; the cover was pink and thick with white ribbons hanging freely from all four corners. Cursive letters spelt out "Memories". My parents had started working on this scrapback and Auntie Henna had planned to finish it for them after they died, but eventually stopped at one point and never got back to it.

My finger ran swiftly down the edge of the cover before I opened it and began my journey of looking through what was inside.

The first couple pages had four pictures of Carmen and I as babies, which the scrapbook had labelled us by name off to the side. We were such cute, chubby babies with thick cheeks and tiny ponytails made of the few inches of hair we had on our round heads in each picture. We looked so much alike that if it wasn't for the labelling, I wouldn't even be able to tell which one was Carmen and which one was me.

The fourth picture on this page was my favorite;  Carmen and I in our high chairs on our one-year-old birthday, smearing hot-pink cupcake icing on each other's faces with our little hands. The rest of our cupcake was mostly eaten with it's remnants strewn messily along our trays. This picture made me grin. We had our mouths open in a big, toothless smile; we were probably laughing at each other and having a blast. I'm sure my parents were cracking up themselves. At this time they were alive. I didn't see them until I flipped to the next page, where one of the pictures was a professionally taken one where each of us twins were on our parents' laps in front of a blue background. I noticed that we both looked more like our mama more than daddy, but overall my parents were both two attractive, young-looking people.

We all smiled genuinely happy smiles... if mama and daddy were alive today, I could tell we'd be a happy family.

The second picture on that page made me laugh; we were in the same background and positions, only one of us twins were crying (I couldn't tell which because this time there weren't labels). The other twin was looking at the crying one with bulged eyes and scrunched eyebrows, daddy was trying to cradle and comfort her to stop her from crying, and my mom had her mouth open wide as if she were saying something. I wonder why the photographer took this, but I'm glad he or she did.

I sighed before flipping through the rest of the book. I really wish my parents were still alive. I wish I remember what they were alike. I wish I knew how perfect our family was and would be today if nobody was fucking dead. I have nobody... and who knows if I'll ever get the old Auntie Henna back.

The rest of the pages either made me smile or shed a tear, but the last page of the unfinished book is what really caught my attention... it was so recent. In fact, it was Carmen and I at graduation; we were in our royal-blue cap and gowns with diplomas in one hand and an arm around each other's back. We smiled big at the camera, having been so excited and happy to have finally graduated from high school and move on to the next chapter in our lives.

Carmen and I had a goal that we both planned to share together - we both wanted to open a hair and makeup salon together someday when we had enough money. She got accepted into a great college that she was supposed to start at the end of the summer that could get her a nice job to save up before we owned the place together. With free scholarships and savings, she was able to afford it, but for me, college just isn't something I've been able to consider yet. I have money saved from my drug dealing days that I planned to spend on college when I quit the business, but I never made enough and now I may have to use it for the expenses my problems brought. I doubt I'd even make it into college with the way my school career went.

Carmen was amazing with school and all that. She was a straight-A student who did art on the side (she was really good at drawing and shit like that), which was how she earned her scholarships. I on the other hand passed with constant C's and D's... before I decided to turn my life around, school was so fucking dumb to me that I didn't care about my grade as long as I was passing. I now wish I never thought of it that way.

I few more tears shed from my eyes. Carmen was a friendly, smart, funny, ambitious, good girl who was living a great life and had an amazing road ahead of her. I ruined aspects of my life because of myself and my decisions and behavior. Hell, she's fucking dead because of me.

I wish it was me who died, I fucking deserve it, and I will always live in guilt knowing that the death of such a perfect girl was my fault.

When I finished going through pictures and pushed the heavy ass box back into the closet, I went to my room where I'd retrieve the money that I saved over the drug dealing days. I haven't looked in it since the last time I put moeny inside it and I lost track of how much I had. I forgot I even had the money until I thought of it while looking through the photos.

I knelt down and looked under my bed, where i pulled out the shoebox that I kept the money in... but there was a problem here. The box felt as light as a feather... the last time I pulled it out, it had weight packed on it from how much money I kept in there.

I opened the box to a sight that made my blood boil and my adrenaline fume with anger.

The fucking box was empty... except for a note inside. I picked it up and read something that caused me to grit my teeth and clench my jaw... Hank wrote it; he must've searched my room and found this shit after he killed Carmen or something.

I hope y'all didn't know about the money or planned to use it... but you didn't think I'd kill Danielle and not get my money back, did you? I could use this money when I leave this fuckin' city... I dare the cops try and find me... if y'all decided to become a bunch of snitches.  - Hank