Demons Two.

ten

Look at my bby in the MM looking all cute and mean.  I could see Rocky with her forreal.

Sorry for the late update! I've been transitioning to a new job and been kind of busy.

Hope

"You know this isn't over right?

You know,

You know we're still coming right?

You know,

You know this is an active fight?

You know, You know, You know, You know, You.."

The group of people walked around in a circle, repeating the same twisted lullaby. I was in the center, bounded to a chair.

"Let me go! Let me go!" I yelled.

"Hope!" Rocky yelled, pulling me out of my nightmare. It felt like I had been pulled out of water.

"You were shaking in your sleep again. Mama, are you sure you're okay?"

Since I've been back home, I've been having terrible nightmares. They are always similar. It's always someone or something telling me that they're coming. I've been ignoring them, ignoring reality in a sense. It's easier to pretend everything is okay. The first few days of reconciling with Rakim and Lo were great, but it didn't take long for reality to set in.

I know this is all just the calm before the storm. My anxiety knows it too.

"I'm fine. Just trying to readjust." I said, sitting up in the bed. "I think I'm going to go paint to ease my nerves."

I got up and put my walking boot on. When I looked at the alarm clock, it read 3:22 A.M. I have enough time to get through the first two phases of this piece I've been imagining. I brushed my teeth and then grabbed my phone off the night stand.

"Hope." Rocky called out just before I walked out the door. "If something was wrong, would you tell me?"

'If it was worth telling, yes." I said. "Go back to sleep. I'm okay."

The hallway of our rental was dark, and I was uncomfortable. It felt weird to be in someone else's home, and the darkness just reminded me of the holding room I was in. I scurried over to the guest room where all of my paint stuff was. We pushed the bed against the wall when we first checked in to create more space. I felt a sense of relief once I saw my easel. I took out my paints, and softly played Solange's When I Get Home in the background.

I was about to start painting, but then I remembered that I could smoke! I haven't smoked in basically ten months. I instantly felt the urge to roll up a backwood, so I went back into the hallway. When I got there, Rocky was standing outside the master bedroom with a RAW tray in his hands.

"What are you doing out here?" We said simultaneously. We both laughed a little.

"I was coming to get that, actually." I said, referring to the RAW tray 

"I was coming to bring you this, actually." He chuckled. "I thought you may need it."

I gave him little smile. Even when I wasn't communicating my feelings to him, he understood them.

We walked back into the room and sat on the bed.

"I already have something rolled up." He said, pulling out a backwood. "Go ahead. I'm just going to lay here."