Change Me | CB

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Monday Afternoon, 10th of September

Anonymous

          To judge a person by who they are on the outside before you find out what's on the inside, is like judging a book by it's cover. You don't know what it's actually about until you open it and read it with an open mindset. It's easy to judge someone without even knowing that you're doing it. It's easy to make an opinion on someone, whether the opinion is positive or negative. Either way, it's making a decision before you know the facts, the truth.

          Yet, no one took that into consideration when they came face to face with him. No one cared or even stopped to think about whether they were judging him but that's only because he gave them a reason to. He put out this persona, this persona that everyone knew him by. The persona in which everyone came to believe was his true self, the persona in which everyone came to fear.

          Over time, as years went on, he noticed how people saw him and noticed what people thought about him which only caused him to give into the persona that he created around himself. He saw that with this persona, came power in which he took advantage of. It caused him to destroy himself, bit by bit. The more people that saw him as a monster, the more he was becoming one. He, like everyone else, saw the monster that he had become.

          Except for one person. She hadn't known him for as long as these people had but she witnessed enough in the last 3 weeks to know how everyone felt about him. She'd heard and she'd seen things that she'd never thought to have to ever see but none the less, kept her mind open about everything she'd encountered. 

          She was one of those people who stood in the back, watching everything play out, taking in every single detail as if missing one thing would ruin her life. She took into consideration the thoughts and views of others but never made a conclusion for herself on what she thought about all of this.

          She knew what they thought of him. . .She didn't think of him like that.
          She knew how they viewed him. . .She didn't view him like that.
          She knew how they saw him. . .She didn't see him like that.

          The one thing she did know was that the man she saw on the outside, was not the same man on the inside.

          She stood and watched the scene unfold in front of her eyes, the man who went by the name of Christopher Maurice Brown stood in front of one of his many unlucky victims. Christopher didn't give a care in the world if people watched, if the police saw, all he cared about was what he wanted, or at least that's what the people thought of him.

          No one could stop him and no one tried to stop him. Christopher was intimidating as it is but his entourage of 16 gang members, all with some sort of weapon with them, was enough to make anyone cower away in complete and utter terror.

          "You not only killed my motherfuckin' men, yo' ass also didn't fuckin' pay up. So where the hell my money at, huh?" His southern accent mixed with the slang he spoke in, silenced anyone who dared to speak or even make a sound. The dominance and power laced in his voice could make any person drop to their knee's out of respect and fear.

          "I-I, sir I'm. . .I'm trying to get the m-money. Your m-men were going to kill me, I had no ch-choice. How else was I supposed to get your m-money if I was dead?" The victim, who was nearly double the size of the gang leader in front of him, stuttered in nervousness.

          Everyone knew what was coming. This wasn't something new, this was something that people had witnessed almost everyday in their lives. Some new comers watched in horror, others watched in boredom as this was something normal in the streets of New York.

          "I gave you more than enough time and ya' know that. I sent my men over, tellin' 'em not to kill you, only to get my damn money. You killed 'em and they wasn't even tryna' do you no harm so why did they die, hm? Why did you feel the need to kill them? I know you have my money, I ain't no damn fool. I seen you wit' it. I got eyes everywhere dumb ass. So, since my people died when they didn't deserve to, it's only right that the same happens to you." The smirk that grew along the gang leaders face was sinister. He paced around his victim, causing him to tremble.

          "I-I don't deserve to d-die, not over money. That isn't r-right." This only made Christopher chuckle darkly, coming to a stop in front of the shaking man.

          "My men didn't deserve to die. Not over some stupid money either. I, being the generous person I am, have let you get away with multiple things. Yo' ass done stole drugs from me, you been in debt to me for a long ass time but I ain't never say nothin' cause I knew you was strugglin'. I let you have time and let you get away wit' a lotta' shit but I done had it up to here. I'm done witcho' dumb ass." Christopher explained, using only the flick of his finger to get his entourage to grab his victim, screaming and crying.

          Christopher smirked at the sound, loving to hear the screams and begging's to be let free. He eyed the onlookers, making them start to rush or look away, all except one. The one who watched the scene in such detail that she'd be able to reenact it without making a single mistake.

          She stepped forward, into the circle that was surrounding the man and it was like time stopped. Onlookers stopped to watch and the man himself, stared at her in disbelief, wondering how someone could have the courage to even step foot in front of him.

          "You really are very rude, you know that, right?" She spoke, her voice was soft and calm, as if everything she witnessed did not faze her at all. Truth to be told, it really didn't faze her.

          "No shit Sherlock. Mind tellin' me what else I don't know?" He fired back, eyeing her with a confused and angry stare. No one dared speak up to him, let alone look him in the eyes but here this girl was, doing both and being calm as ever while doing so.

           "Why are you like this?" The question made Christopher's pacing back and forth, abruptly stop. His eyes pierced into hers, wondering what she was trying to achieve by asking that question.

          "Why the fuck does it matter to you?" That wasn't a good enough answer for her, she knew what he was doing and she was not having it.

          Everyone stood and watched as she pulled out what looked to be a stack of sticky notes and a pen. As some wondered why they were in her purse, others wondered what was being written on the note.

          No words were exchanged as she walked up to Christopher, handing him the note before walking away. Everyone stared in shock. Not only did she confront him but she also ignored him. Everyone already knew what she had coming for her, even she knew what was coming for her.

          As she walked away, Christopher looked down at the yellow sticky note in his hand, eyebrows furrowing as he read what she had written.

          My name is Amaya Nketsi, my number is 240-505-7627. For when you need someone to talk to.