I woke up in a cold sweat. I looked to my left and Tariq was still sleep. Also, no light came through the blinds yet. It looked dim outside, I can tell morning time was on it's way.
I been in and out sleep all night. Trying to get some sleep after last night was exhausting. All I seen when I closed my eyes was the fein lying in a puddle of blood.
What bothered me more than not being able to sleep was that I couldn't remember the fein's face, his body was there but his face was blank in my mind.
I remember Reggie's face perfectly, as he pleaded for his life, but I don't even remember how the fein looked and it just happened last night.
It made me remember a conversation last year between Mac and Peso when they was in the living room high as hell. I eavesdropped on their conversation from the hallway.
Flashback:
"Gucci nut ass on my case cuz, I'm bouta beat the fuck out his fat ass on my mama" Peso said while laying down on the couch looking at the tv.
"That's yo big brother man, you gotta show at least a lil respect" Mac said while rubberbanding cash with a blunt in his mouth.
"How much times I'm gone tell you this cuz? I just met this nigga a few years ago, he ain't my fucking big nothing, that nigga my equal homie! We just share the same pops. And I barely know that jail bird ass nigga" Peso said.
"Yeah whatever dawg, either way Spill bouta hand him the disciple spot, so he gone be running yo ass either way it go" Mac said chuckling and coughing on the blunt.
Peso sat up and took the blunt, "You can't handle that potna, that's big boy shit. Speaking of disciple spots, why you ain't take that shit when Spill offered it to you first?" Peso asked.
"I ain't with allat hype man, I leave that shit for them wannabe kingpin niggas. Besides, that ain't good for business. DSG would try to take out our corner boys one by one just to get to me. And then I'm gone have to go on a god damn killing spree."
"That's another thing Gucci been on my ass bout."
"What, DSG?"
"Naw killing a nigga"
"Shit, that's what come with the game" Mac said while counting stacks of cash.
"I feel that and I ain't scared of putting in no work, that's why I ain't hesitate to shoot that one fool. But I'm a God fearing man homie, I ain't tryna let that evil take over me. Shoot, my crip ass mama still dealing with demons bout motherfuckers she then smoked."
"Yeah I heard bout stuff like that , niggas fighting they demons and shit. But I ain't gone lie nigga I then got so used to it, I don't even remember the faces of half the niggas I den shot. Murder come with all this money we making ya digg. So don't trip it get easier, you just gotta be built for it, and I know you is." Mac said while throwing Peso five stacks of cash.
(..)
I ain't really no God fearing man, but I prayed silently to myself. Praying and hoping that I wasn't on my way to making killing so second nature that I can't even remember faces.
Today was the day I get put on with Gucci nem, I can't be stressing bout old shit with all this new shit ahead of me. I closed my eyes to get some sleep.
I heard four knocks on the door, I looked to the window and it was bright as hell. What the fuck, it felt like I just went to sleep.
Before I could get up and answer it, Tariq loud ass was already at the front door talking.
He walked back in the room.
"Killa-Red at the door", Tariq said while going back to getting dressed.
YOU ARE READING
Rosewood
Teen Fiction"This street shit ain't no joke, calling it "fast life" is an understatement. One day you up, next day you scraping for change. My problem was I been playing this game the wrong way, one foot in one foot out at all times. It wasn't a time before th...
