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As the house sat ominously, Syrai lay awake in her bed. She was waiting for the right time to make her great escape. Young and wanting to be free, Syrai did not understand the dynamics of why her parents stressed her safety so much. Later, she would regret all the things her younger self had done in the near future. Her cover lay loosely on her body, waiting for her phone to sound off, letting her know her play was in motion. Syrai could taste the freedom on the tip of her tongue, as that's all her young mind craved.
"We here, where you at?" her friend popped in the phone. The call was loud as music was blaring and male voices could be heard in the background.
"Always a car full," Syria thought.
Syria kissed her teeth, aggravated that Amira didn't take heed of her warning. She and Amira were from two different worlds but like two peas in a pot. She was the one person who didn't see Syrai as her last name, her family, or her money. A genuine friendship to last a lifetime is something so rare in this society.
"Turn the music down. I told you Amira you can't do that! My neighbors are going to call the police on you," Syrai fussed as she climbed her way through her bedroom window, leaving it cracked open for a return. The humid night air didn't stall her young eagerness, as she moved her way down the ladder she had discreetly propped against the house. Once her feet hit the ground she sneakily moved her way through the front yard, carefully not to trigger the automatic lights and stay out of camera view. Maxwell had their house set up like it was a prison as it kept those not wanted from coming in. However sadly, it kept those in from going out. As Syrai aged she found new techniques to get herself out into the streets that captive her young mind so much. Even now she looked too old for her young age as she had on a face of makeup, hair straightened to the bone, and a body-hugging bodycon. The sight of her put some grown women to shame and had men ready to risk their freedom for the young temptress.
"Took you long enough," Amira smiled as she hosted a blunt to her lip sitting in some dude's lap. Syrai was slightly winded as she felt like she just ran a marathon to make it here. The neighborhood they were in was a couple blocks from her home and this is where she would be picked up and dropped off. Syrai didn't tell anyone where she lived, not even Amari. She wasn't dumb, she wouldn't give her address to a group of street niggas and risk them trying to get at her father. As much as her family thought she was just naive and worried about worldly possessions she knew the bigger picture. Maxwell and Sinh didn't do much good hiding the line of business they were in. The girl was rocking designer clothes and had access to her father's Amex Black card at a young age. She wasn't simple-minded at all.
The car was packed to capacity as Syrai looked where she was supposed to sit. Her eyes connected with the guy in the back who had a sleazy grin on his face. He moved his body making his crotch area more visible as if to show her that it was her seat. Syrai couldn't stop her face from scrunching up at him. He was the type of nigga you have seen and walked the other way. His face was sketched with pimples and noticeable white heads.
