Divine Sincere King, a 20 year old black young man in the hood of Florida just trying to survive. He's a local drug dealer and high school dropout who somehow lost track of his dreams and aspirations after the death of his older brother Prodigy. Str...
I stared at the picture of Prodigy I had sitting on my nightstand. I always laugh because he told me to take this picture as he posed, crossing his arms, pretending to be looking at something. We were at this hotel in Atlanta, and he told me the hotel made him feel like Denzel Washington.
I don't know how the hell that made sense, but it was funny. I remember laughing my ass off that day taking this picture of him.
Nigga always thought he was a model or some shit.
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Three years, he's been gone. Three long ass depressing ass years.
Some hating ass niggas took my brother on his 22nd birthday, in a drive by. We were leaving the strip club, and they took his ass out at a red light like they did Tupac.
I don't remember much. Everything happened so fast, but so slow at the same time. All I could remember was my brother's body jerking in slow motion while blood splattered everywhere.
Everything else after that was a blur.
I do know that after that I had blood on my face and clothes with a Glock in my hand looking for any motherfucker who looked suspicious. But that was three years ago, and I'm all cried out. I missed my nigga, but I choose not to dwell on it for too long. It's still a mystery who killed my brother, but don't think for a second, I ever stopped trying to solve it.
But that shit gone come to the light and when it does, Ima be ready for that bloodshed.
Today was his death anniversary and his birthday, so this shit hit me double. And I know it kills my mama, she hasn't been the same since. Hell, I ain't either. The whole hood ain't been the same.
My mama tried her best to go through her life as normally. But it never seemed authentic. But she tried her very best every day, but on days that reminded her of P was like the night she got the call all over again. That's why I asked Goldie at the funeral to move in with her to keep her company and keep her laughing. Which she didn't mind.
I tucked the picture under my red pillow and turned to see Camry lightly snoring. I looked at the clock it read 6:15 am. I couldn't sleep, so I might as well make some money and start making my way to visit my mom.
I was honestly dreading walking into the door of my mama's house. I started to mentally prepare myself to be drowned in memories of P, old baby pictures, and stories I've heard time and time again.
Not that I don't care to remember my brother on the anniversary of his death, it just hurts too bad.
"Was sup, ma. Hey Goldie." I greeted, closing the door.
There was a girl I'd never seen before sitting next to Goldie in the kitchen. She looked up at me and waved. She was a pretty, dark skin girl with braids. Big lips and small eyes. I looked around to see if there was anyone else in the house I didn't recognize, but it was just her.
"Where the hell she come from?" I asked myself.
Had a slight resemblance to Lauryn Hill that I noticed right away.
I nodded towards her, "Wassup." I noticed that she swallowed hard as she studied me, which made me think she saw me as attractive. Her eyes fluttered, and she cleared her throat. "Hey."
Her voice was soft and innocent like.
"Hey baby, I was just showing Goldie and her niece you and Prodigy's baby pictures." My mom said with a wide smile on her face. Tears were streaming down her and Goldie's cheeks, they're faces were glued to the pictures.
Here we go again.
"Oh, and that's Goldie's niece," Mama said, pointing at her.
"Hi, I'm Time." The girl stood up with her hand out. I shook it firmly, analyzing her appearance. She was wearing a tight-fitting denim dress with brown sandals. Her braids were long, touching the end of her waist. She had silver jewelry on and her nails were bright red.
She was very pretty, I thought again.
"I'm D," I responded. She sat back down and picked up her iPhone XR.
"You okay, mama?" I asked as I gave her a hug.
"I'm okay. I was just showing Time here pictures of Prodigy when he was small, and the tears got to goin'" She responded, wiping her cheeks with her small hands.
"She came from Georgia." Aunt Goldie added as she sat close to my mom, looking at the photo album.
I nodded again, "Georgia, huh? What part?" I took a seat next to her, whole Goldie and my mama kept looking at the photo album.
"Atlanta."
"I've been there a few times," I told her. "Why you leavin'?"
She shrugged, "Fresh start, finding out what I really want out of life, y'know?"
"Cant do that in Atlanta?" I asked.
"Not, with the kind of mother I have, no." She mumbled and playfully rolled her eyes. I chuckled a bit.
"I would ask what kind of mother you have, but ima' mind my business," I said, pulling out my phone.
She laughed, "I'm so sorry about your brother." She told me, looking into my eyes intensely. I heard this a million times in the last three years, so I'm used to just shrugging it off and saying ''thank you.''
But when she said it, it hit a little differently. Maybe it was that soft tone of hers. "Thank you.'' I looked back in her brown eyes, and she quickly looked away.
"My father died, that's another reason why I'm here." She let me know.
"I'm sorry, too," I told her. "When?"
"Last year." She told me. "It's something about grieving that makes you want to start your life over from scratch."
I nodded, agreeing. "For sho'. I feel that."
"I hope you like it here, though," I told her before getting up to get a glass of water.
She looked up at me as I walked to the fridge, "I think I will." She says with a little smile.
