Next Generation (Paused)

1

February 25, 2195

New Orleans, Louisiana

"Momma?"

I call out, shaken. I creep slowly in the dark, trying to find her while in my state of dismay. I go down the hallway and walk into my parents' room. "Momma, I had a nightmare," I state quietly, wringing my hands out in front of me. I'm greeted back by silence. I lift up my head slowly and inspect their tousled white sheets on the bed. The emptiness the bed holds puzzles me and I glance at the alarm clock. 9:36 pm shows up on the digital clock. Daddy should be coming home, I think to my 9-year-old self. Maybe Momma is waiting for him on the porch. Letting my curiosity flow over my discomposure, I walk to the front door and I see it slightly ajar. I inch to the door and peek through the crack. A pale, white fist collides with my mother's face, bruising her light brown skin. My body freezes as I watch this stranger bash her head against the filthy concrete of our pathway. As she connects to the ground, her gaze lands on me. Her eyes widen in panic at the sight of me. "Akil, go bac-" she is cut off by the same pale hand, gripping the fluffy black curls on her head. She clenches her teeth in pain and claws at his hands viciously, leaving angry lines over them. "Mommy!" I exclaimed once I am roughly pushed back into reality. "Go wait for Daddy baby!" She shouts, the fear in her eyes contrasting the strength in her voice.

My frail body trembles violently in fright as he strikes her callously. The red liquid splatting on the ground grows bigger with each strike. I watch utterly terrified as she feebly fights back with what strength she has. What am I supposed to do? Where is Daddy? I watch the man slip a silver blade from his pocket, making its presence known as light reflects from the metal. "Don't hurt her!" I shout as my feet start running on its own accord. The man glances at me and I see he has gray eyes with one closed. A scar, which runs from his forehead to his chin, is weeping blood.

"Akil, go!" She bellowed, holding onto her hair. I almost halt from the power in her voice, but I continue on. I need to rescue her! I can't lose her. The blade goes against her neck, "Akil go, baby!" She tries again, tears running away from her eyes. I'm running to her, my breath is going out in huffs and my heart is racing, but I'm not moving. Why aren't I moving? She's going to die! I'm crying at my desperation. I'm pushing so hard, but I'm stuck in one place and the man moves his arm. My name echoes around me.

"AKIL!"

I jolt awake, breathing laboriously. Sweat drenches my clothes as I shiver, despite the warmth of the comforter on my lap. "AKIL!" my name is shouted once again. I fling the comforter off me when I recognize the voice. "Sasha?" I call out. A pained moan meets my ears and panic rushes throughout my body. "Where are you, Sasha?" I stumble while getting out of our bedroom. Dashing down the stairway, I frantically look around and see the light on in the kitchen. Hurrying to the doorway, I spot my wife holding her pregnant belly while leaning over the marble counter, "Sasha, what's wrong? What happened?" I whisper as I hurry over to her. I study her body; my mind assuming something is wrong with the baby. I unexpectedly step in some liquid substance and pause for a moment, following the trail that leads up my wife's leg. "T-Tonya...she is coming Akil," she gasped. My mind goes blank for a moment before registering what she said. I'm going to become a father. The thought rings constantly in my mind as I gently pick her up as her whimpers of pain dig inside of my ears. She isn't supposed to be due until early March. I push my panic aside for a moment.

I have to get her to Ray, I think to myself. She holds my T-Shirt tightly and I start to feel her pain as her sounds of distress calms down. That's her trait, transferring her physical pain to other people. She had abusive parents when she was in her teenage years. They taught her to think that she was worthless and that she would only hurt everyone she touched. They did beat her to help enforce the emotional distress and she believed them. She disconnected from friends and other family members. She wouldn't touch anyone because she believed she would hurt everyone. I met her in high school and it took a while, but she trusted me and told me her situation. I brought it up with my dad and he gladly took her in and wanted to press charges against her parents, but Sasha strongly spoke against it. She should have, in my opinion, since they didn't even try to get her back from us. However, as the months went by, we made a greater connection and became more than good friends. I quickly turn off the security alarm and open the front door, breaking the lock in the process. I let out a low grunt from the pain stabbing me in my lower abdomen and back.