Urban - Four individuals going through different aspects of life. Each going through their own struggles surrounding Lyrewood - HARDAWAY.
VOLUME ONE - Carmen Richardson. Kylan Burgess. Aalea Jimenez. Marshay Hayes.
VOLUME TWO - Asia Jimenez. Sharif...
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"You looked drained, Babygirl." My father commented, I assumed, becoming aware of me nodding off from time to time. He sat across from me in the visiting room with Sienna, sitting next him, sneaking touches him every now and again since touching wasn't allowed. While I sat on the other side by myself, white and heather gray top, light denim jeans, and white slip-on Vans. My wavy bundles were in a ponytail — Saturday morning, our routined visiting days.
"Sorry," I raised my head from my hand. "I only got four hours of sleep last night."
"Four hours? Why?" His thick brows knitted, "I'll kill whatever knucklehead ass boy."
"Ain't about no knucklehead boy, Daddy," I chuckled, "My stupid brother and his girlfriend was up arguing all night and into the morning. Ain't that much arguing in the damn world. Then, I was busy keeping my nephew from being scared. I feel like I'm the only adult in the house."
"Damn, that boy just like his Pops," my father shook his head.
Short and sweet backstory, my father and Israel's father knew each other back in their days; fought and repping two different sets. My mother, Tangie, was in a relationship with Israel's father for a while, creating his devil-ass. My father only start messing around with my mother, just to prove a point he could take her from Israel's father. He succeeded, fell in love with her, and had me. Israel's father came after my father for years before he was murdered and my father was accused of his murder since the police department knew they both had a long going beef with one another.
When in reality, my father really didn't murder his father. Someone else did, that's living free while my father received his third strike and could be spending the rest of his life in prison.
Israel believed the lies of my father murdering his and he took whatever anger he felt towards my father out on me since I live under the same roof as him — main reason we don't have a relationship with one another. Really, after his father was murdered, he became this angry soul; mad at the world.
"He bullheaded," I added on, "Mama only baby him."
He shook his head, "and how is he towards you?" His greenish hazel watched me attentively.
"We don't have a relationship. Respect towards me is out of the window since he thinks you did what you did. He's my first bully, actually; still is. I'm only babysitter to him."
"He be putting his hands on you?" He replied quickly, staring at me attentively.
"We fight each other. . ."
"So, that make it right?" His eyebrows raised, "A nigga bust you upside yo head every now and again, it may shit right because y'all fight each other?"
"That's not what I meant–"
"I don't give a fuck what you meant, but how you putting the shit, you basically telling me you will accept a nigga putting his damn hands on you," he scowled in anger, "Don't give me that, we fight each other bullshit. I still got connects on the outside. I'll have some niggas see what's to him soon."
