4th Draft-Story

It was around 3:30 in the morning when I found myself shuffling behind these bushes in his backyard. I pulled the hoodie over my head and waved my hands signaling them boys to follow me. It was me, Dae-Dae, Danny, Scarface and Bucky and we were the Cobras. I told Danny to take the hinges off the back door and walked into the house. He thought he was gonna get away with torching my car and shit like I was ready to put these last three bullets in his head. I walked across the hall, knocked over all his family pictures and kicked them to the corner. I knew his parents went on vacation but I sent the boys to check all the rooms just in case. I carried the gun in my right hand behind my back and put my left hand on his door knob and glanced back for a quick second. I had promised her so many things as I held her hands close to my heart. For two years, I had held unto her heart in glass case and recently I could feel my fingers slipping. I removed my hand from the door knob and walked back through the back door.
“What’s going on man?” Dae Dae whispered.
“What we doing out here?” Scarface said belligerently
“We leaving here, I can’t do this, come on’”! I said angrily
I took off my hoodie, stepped into the car and we pulled off the curb.
It was around Mid-day and the clouds cried all morning, the fogs wouldn't rest and the frigid temperatures made the day extremely gloomy. That didn’t stop me from waiting in front of her door though. I rang her door bell, and it was almost as if she was waiting at the door, listening for me, she sprung out and I lifted her up. I always called by her last name, parker but she’d always address herself as Rosa Parker. I kissed her on the forehead and held her hands as we glided through the rain. We always took these long ass walks talking bout’ the future and how she wanted to go to Harvard and all these bullshit Ivy League schools. I always told her that lifestyle wasn’t for me. I mean, I was an average student and whatever but it was just a waste to spend all that time in school learning the same shit over and over again. I just hated sitting in those packed classrooms having some teacher shove useless information down my throat. I never told her this though, when she’d start talking, I’d just nod my head every five minutes or so while thinking about the life I wanna live. One thing I’m always telling her though is that life is too short to dream up some perfect lifestyle we could never really live. For me, the American dream died when cancer took my mother and the government shoved me into some crappy ass foster home. We finally stopped at this bridge and sat on the grass. A couple minutes later, the rain stopped falling and I put my hands around her waist. She turned back and smiled. It wasn’t no regular smile though, it was one of those smiles that made you feel like aint no other troubles in the world. Me and Rosa, we would always sit by the bridge and just talk and watch the sun go down, and the sunset come up. She always wanted us to cross the bridge, but that was the only thing I was afraid of, crossing bridges. I always figured the other side of town would have nothing better to offer me than what I have here. I started to sing Michael Jackson’s Billie Jean and I took her hand and started dancing in circles. Suddenly, I felt a cold object pierce my temple and Rosa screamed out.
They slapped me with the gun.
“You think you was slick huh”
They kicked me in the knee
“Coming into my house and you aint do shit. You shoulda killed me when you had the chance.”
They pushed me to the tree with gun pointed to my heart.
“This aint over, next time we find you, we killing you and your girlfriend”
Walking away, they shoved Rosa to the ground and disappeared. Limping, as my blood dripped to floor, I tried helping her up. She turned away from me as the tears built up in her eyes. She started walking home, head down and in silence. I followed her, and pulled her hand and she spoke.
“You promised you’d stop that shit,” Parker yelled furiously
“It’s part of my life, I grew up this way and I can’t change that” I said reaching for her face
“So know my life is in jeopardy because you can’t do the right thing?”
“Babe, I’ll fix this, you’re not gonna die,”
“how? Kill him? I’m through with this” Parker said as she stormed off.
I clenched my teeth and yelled “why me?” I walked back and forth for about five minutes squeezing my fists so hard, my nails pierced my skin and I started to bleed even more.
The moon was shinning extremely bright tonight and I finally decided to walk home, face battered and heart unsteady. I walked a different route tonight, my mind was clogged, and I figured I’d use the time to think. I approached Jerome Ave and across the street was Mount Dale Cemetery. It was closed and I needed to go inside. I ran across the street, hopped over the cemetery gates and walked to the grave site. It was dark, and the light they had over the graves wasn’t enough to clearly find my way. Finally, I walked up to the big tree and my mom’s tombstone had a glow on it from the moon. I sat down in front of it and hugged it so tight as if it were a real person.
My mom had always told me every morning before leaving the house, “Start working on your president speeches” I’d laugh every time saying “Ma, ain’t no black boy from the hood making it into that white house, maybe I could clean it and that’s as far as I’m going.” Ma had always been so proud of me; she thought I was the smartest person she’d ever meet. Ever since dad went to jail for some drug shit, she had been my rock the whole time. I’d always tell her, momma, you crazy but your all I got and I love you.
One day we were home watching some old ass movie, she told me she was sick, and she’d have to be in the hospital for 6 months. She lied, she had one month to live and when she left me, I was mad. Not even a goodbye, no letter, no nothing. I came home one day, and my next door neighbor was in front of my door with tears in her eyes and sadly, I knew why.
I finally let go of her tomb stone realizing that the tears from my eyes soaked my clothes and slowly trickled down her name, Eva Richards. I needed answers, for the first time since her death I was out of option and I had no one. I left her grave site and walked home.
I heard a loud banging on my window and I stormed out the bed and my boys was yelling at me. Them Puerto Rican boys was looking for me and something had to be done. I dragged on my pants and a t-shirt. Pulled the hat over my head and shoved the gun into my back pocket then walked out the door. They lived by Parkers’ house and I was ready to put a bullet in all four of em’. Sitting in the back seat of the car, looking back to yesterday because I knew this might end badly. I needed to have no regrets after this, and I’d just run to another city, run away from problems and sadness, run away from what could have been, run away from that foster house, run away from life’s expectations, run away from ruined dreams, run away from discrimination, run away from death and run away from myself. As we approaching their block as I reached for the gun in my back pocket and placed in on my lap. I spotted them; I crouched down low, put my hand on the trigger and rolled down the window. They turned on the block, and I was ready, they were all on the sidewalk and I raised my gun just a little. I was nauseous at this point and my hand started to shiver. I was about 300 feet away from them, I just started shooting like a mad man and my friends laughed as they watch the Puerto Rican boys each fall to the floor. I heard a loud scream; I stopped and saw Rosa Parker holding her heart as the blood profusely made puddles on the ground. I dropped the gun, opened the car door and ran to her. I held her in my arms, begging her to stay with me, I apologized for everything, I cried, I promised her I’d cross the bridge but she was lifeless, she tried to tell me something, but her body wouldn’t allow her and she just bled to death.