They weren’t as soft as they were before. They were a little piercing.
“That drinkin’ shit… don’t get used to it. It don’t help anyway. I know you want to crash out but nah… now's not the time for that.” With raised brows he stared harder. “You hear me?”
I shrugged and looked away.
“I been there. It’s heavy as hell right now but…” he paused. “Doin’ wild shit, drinking and all that.. It won’t help. It’ll only make matters worse. Can’t be out here sloppy, drunk, fighting and shit. I’m sure big bro wouldn’t even want you on that type of time.”
I didn’t say anything. Wrapped my arms around my body and just nodded.
“Keep yo head up, Sarah.”
I squinted. “Sereia.”
“Oh shit, my bad.Sereia.”
He walked off and I watched him until he was about three doors down. As soon as I walked back into the apartment, Dom and Lake were on my head.
“What the hell was that about?” Dom asked. “And why is it so damn dirty in here? It stank!” They were all in the apartment earlier. Guess they were too riddled with grief to notice how dirty it was.
Lakeland turned her nose up. “It’s definitely reakin’ in this bitch. Is that why you had him in the hallway? What did he say? Girl, I liked to fucking lose it when he swooped your ass up. You know that bitch still down there talking like you didn’t just drag her rat ass?”
Lakeland talked fast. A hundred and fifty words per minute for real. As she talked, she picked up around the living room, grabbing food containers and junk mail. Dom snatched the trash bag out of the bin. I stood off by the door, still a little caught off guard by Exodus’s prayer. Not because he cursed but because he prayed. I mean, they prayed at the funeral… people said they were praying for me. But nobody had ever actually prayed for me, with me. Nobody but my mama, at least. That was… wow.
“He prayed for me,” I blurted out, cutting Lake off.
They stopped in their tracks. “Wait—what?” asked Dom. “Exodus’s big, mean ass did not pray for you.”
I nodded. “Grabbed my hand, bowed his head and spoke to the man upstairs,” I said, referring to God as the man upstairs like my momma used to.
“What the hell,” said Lake.
“Same thing I was thinking,” I mumbled, his words still heavy on my mind.
It wasn’t like the prayer was profound. It was simple. Generic, really. It was the fact that he did it at all. That was going to sit with me for a long time. Probably for the rest of my life.
CHAPTER 6
EXODUS
“She straight?”Asked Zeke when I made it back across the field over to the courtyard where Meech’s repast was being held.
Shaking my head, I stood beside him, stuffing my hands into the pockets of my jeans. ‘She’ was Meech’s little sister. Sereia. She wasn’t okay. Had just gotten into a fight. Damn near beat the life out that bitch. If it weren’t for me scooping her lil’ ass up, she for sure would have. That wasn’t why she wasn’t okay and wouldn’t be for a minute. It was Meech’s death and some more shit. Pain weighed heavy on her. Very heavy. So heavy that when I grabbed her hands a minute ago, to pray for her, I felt the shit hit me.
There was a lot of pain inside of her. Sensed it before we grabbed hands. Sensing it was why I decided to pray for her in the first place. I didn’t hold hands with people. Didn’t really go to Big G about them neither. But today I felt compelled to. Was told to. I wasn’t the cleanest nigga. I did dirt. Sinned like crazy. But I was connected. The holy spirit fucked with me heavy. So… I prayed for her. Talked to Big G about her. But the prayer didn’t end there. When I walked away, on my way back to the yard, Ikept praying. The pain I felt come up off her ran deeper than just the grief of losing her brother.
The fight was just the beginning, for real. She was going to get worse. Angrier. Colder. More vicious. Reckless too. She’d been hitting the bottle. Something told me she wasn’t on that type of time before Meech. She didn’t seem like the other bitches in The Woods. When we pulled up on her that night, she was in the crib. In pajamas. Literal pajamas. A set. Bitches that drunk heavy, got high, and ran around the hood didn’t move like that. Shit, if she was one of them, she wouldn’t have been in the crib at all.
“Mannn,” Zeke said, shaking his head, looking in the same direction as me. “Shorty gon’ be fucked up out here. You know all they had was each other. Just imagine, bro.”
“She gon’ be straight,” I responded, eyes centered on the group of young niggas heading for the courtyard. Taking my hands out of my pocket, I crossed my arms across my chest.
I let what Zeke said digest a little. I had a soft spot in my heart for baby girl for some reason. I didn’t give too much of a fuck about a lot of people. If you didn’t have Christ blood flowing through your veins, or if you wasn’t my bitch, I didn't give a fuck about what you had going on for real. Felt like it might’ve been guilt a lil bit, low key. Had I stopped Zeke before it got to this point, her brother wouldn’t be dead. Low key, I felt a little responsible. Aside from that, whenever I was in her presence, I felt the sadness coming up off her. Being in the slums, around so much poverty and heartache, feeling what other people felt came easy. Theirs was easy to ignore. However, it was different with her. Couldn’t ignore it. Like I said though, could’ve been that guilt. Even that was odd. I didn’t have a heart when it came to shit for real. Guilt wasn’t something I felt. Not unless it pertained to my Sweet Lady. Honestly.
“Keep an eye on her,” I said, steady watching the group of young niggas.
“I’m already on it,” Zeke said, stepping forward a little, hands stuffed into his pocket, eyes laser focused on that group.
The closer they got to the courtyard, the easier it was for me to see their eyes. And as expected, their eyes were on us just as tough as ours were on them. One of them, little nigga with a long scar across his face, chucked his chin. Neither of us returned the gesture. He looked over at one of his niggas, pinched the bridge of his nose and looked back at us.
