A Gangster's Cry

39. nothings left

so she could just
self express
herself to death
now nothings left
you the best...
you finessed it...
and i said:
and i said,
pretty bird, pretty bird, pretty bird,
sounds so pretty when you cry
pretty bird, pretty bird
please don't die...

*

When Nasir cried the tears of a city, who heard her?
- no one, but him...

*

"Why am I even here?" Nasir finally mustered up the courage to ask, her pretty brown skin ridden with crystal diamond tears.

The man only gazed at her, his face masked by his balaclava yet his beautiful eyes still present.

He didn't have an answer to her lingering question.

Anger fuelled the stolen girl, she saw nothing but red as she jumped and started to lay hits on the tall man with all the fury within her.

It took him a moment to finally catch on to what the infuriated damsel was doing, but once he did he carefully pushed her back onto the bed in which she commenced from, trapping her with his strong figure

Now, all that could be heard where her heavy cries as she loudly sobbed into the unknown mans covered chest. Today he wasn't wearing his usual hoodie, instead he wore a plain black short sleeved undershirt that clung onto his lean arms.

He was puzzled at how her mood switched so quickly yet he didn't utter a word, instead he let her have her moment knowing it was the least he could do.

"Who are you?" Her cries now stopped and she finally spoke up, her voice hoarse as it dripped with curiosity.

He lightly tapped her arms for him to let go, to which she did. He then allowed himself to stand up, he scratched his head through his bally before speaking.

"You don't know me."

Nasir screwed him, unpleased with his dry response. Here she was, in an abandoned area isolated from anything she knew. She was lucky to have the luxury of food and water, and the entertainment that she got from the small tv that sat on-top of the old dresser.

She didn't know why she was here, nor did she know anyone here. She hasn't been beaten, and she wasn't bruised. She hadn't be mistreated, not misused. But she'd been stolen, only to be completely disregarded.

Nasir felt a waft of emotions, one of them being the emotion she had grown foreign to but was all too familiar with.

Worthlessness.

"Fuck you." Nasir shouted out at the unknown man as he walked out of the room.

Her words echoed, bouncing off the walls magenta walls.

She threw herself back onto the mattress, letting a deep sky escape her mouth as she stared at the plain ceiling.

She was confused, Nasir was lost.

Why was she even here in the first place?

There were so many unanswered questions, and so many things brushed underneath the rug. So many missing pieces to the puzzle, and there was only a little amount of time left.

What if the one with the answers was dug six feet under, with nothing but a skeleton to her Ghanian name.