Fiend (Urban)

✨05| Hidden Memories

Excuse any errors.

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"Little girl you gone die." Some lady in prison said slicing her neck with a sharp knife killing herself, instantly.

I was only 13 years old when I got locked up in a third world country. I had fucked around and got caught and was doing the time for it.

I had no money to buy any food with and I damn sure didn't have anybody to call, so I was out here on my own.

They showed no mercy towards me. They threw me in jail with eighteen others that night.

Everyone went in acting all hard and tough, I on the other end walked in there and said nothing.

I didn't fear anybody at this point of my life and I also didn't need to pretend like I was tough when I already knew that I was born to be about this life.

I tore myself away from my memories and rubbed my eyes, getting out of bed and doing my daily routine that consists of.

Showering, washing my face, brushing my teeth, getting dress and exfoliating my skin.

It took me a good two and a half hours to get everything done. And, when I was done. I went downstairs and cooked me something to eat to get rid of this hungover from last night at the club.

I named my club, Hunnid'z. Not because it got anything to do with money or Franklin but because, it had everything to do with loyalty.

The club speakers were loud and held a bass to them. My audience was on the dance floor, dancing and drinking while my employees were walking around passing out drinks and collecting money.

The whole vip section was booked by some well known drug dealer and his friends. And, the bar was crowded with people that needed to drink their worries away.

I grabbed the mic that was being handed to me and cleared my throat getting everyone attention.

"As many as you may know. This use to be Duke building but unfortunately he died and passed it down to me. He will truly be missed. But, for now we ain't here to dwell on the dead. We here to have some fun right?" I asked walking across the stage and stopping to get their response and I heard a bunch of yeahs before continuing.

I pretended to wipe a tear from my eye, as the cameras went off. I invited the paparazzi for a reason. To send a message to those who thought I was dead.

And by dead, I mean hiding.

It's been six months since, I put off all of my targets for other people targets and I couldn't wait until I got my revenge on every single last one of them.

Something in me was hungry to see their pain and hear them beg for their lives that wasn't even worth fighting for.

Everyone cheered for me as I cut the tie and smiled big, allowing the cameras to get a perfect angle of my smile. And, once they did, I stopped smiling and walked off stage allowing my assistance to finish talking.

The music started playing shortly after and the bottles were starting to roll in along with the dope I allowed one of my connect cornerboys to sell was moving around the club at a fast pace.

This cornerboy I allowed to sell drugs in my club was about 17 years old. He had that hustling ambition and reminded me so much of my father when he was alive.

So, I decided to help the kid out but he refused to let me walk away with nothing and paid me up front. And, even though he didn't have all of the money at that particular moment. He ended up grinding for the other half of the money and giving it to me.