Big Daddy D -slow updates

Lost in Thought

Drug Use. Domestic violence.

He finished selling the last of his stash and raised the collar on his jacket. He tugged his hoodie to hide his face, lowered his eyes and headed towards Spaz's house. The streetlights blinked on as the leaves on the street twirled in the cool wind. The temperature was getting lower and lower and it felt like winter was right around the corner. Duka let out an annoyed huff.

They'd all need new winter clothes.

The younger kids had gotten taller while he'd grown thicker. Even at fifteen he stood almost as tall as his father and just as sturdy. Though he still had a little baby fat, he was morphing into his father's carbon copy. This sometimes caused fights between him and his mother. She couldn't stand that he looked like the one partner she had that had gone and 'got himself shot up' and left her with more mouths to feed. Never mind she wouldn't have so many mouths if she learned that sex didn't equal love and that pullout is a shitty form of contraception.

He let out another sigh. Jace's death date was approaching as well. Duka always felt a little depressed during this time of year. He didn't openly cry anymore but his grief was still crippling. Unfortunately, he adopted his mother's way of coping; getting stoned with his friends and passing out.

It wasn't healthy and he was the first to admit it. All these years he'd suffered at his mother's. He couldn't recall one time he'd felt motherly care and affection. Then one by one his older siblings moved on without him. Dayquan was an angry and bitter drunk who didn't much like to see any of them. His oldest sister Deedree left the minute she could and barely called. Guess their shabby family was a stain on her new life. Dazzia was pregnant now and moved with her boyfriend. The only person he really had was Donnell. He didn't like to bother Donnell too much. He was married and had a business to run.

It didn't matter. Duka was sixteen soon. It was time to start planning his own exit from this hellhole.

He stopped at a familiar chain-link fence and sent a text. Within a few moments, a window on the second floor rattled open. A skinny boy in an oversized hoodie leaned out.

"What the hell? Bring ya ass up. Whatcha textin' me for?!" Spaz hollered.

Duka sucked his teeth. "I keep tellin' you I'm not 'bout to just roll up in yo house. Your moms gonna think I'm a robber or somethin'."

"Mannnn, get yo ass in here, dawg." He turned his head and shouted to someone inside. "Ma, open the door! It's Duka!"

A young woman wearing a red cardigan with her curly brunette hair up in a bun, opened the door and unlatched the storm door. "Don't know why his lazy ass can't come down here and handle it himself," she grumbled.

Duka shook his head and chuckled at Spaz's younger sister. "Thanks, Manda. You know your brother is straight rude."

"You got that right."

He chuckled running up the stairs. A blast of hot air hit his face as he opened the bedroom door. "Gatdamn, son."

"Big Duke!"

"What up, my mans!"

"It's hotter than hell in here." Duka tossed his coat to the chair in the corner and flopped on the bed squashing Mitchell. He cackled loudly as Mitchell cried out like he was dying.

Spaz and Hector fell over each other with laughter. Mitchell flailed around trying to shake Duka's weight. Duka put him in a head lock. Mitchell's face flushed as he exerted all his strength.

"Who's the greatest?"

"Go fuck yourself," Mitchell grunted.

Feeling a burst of wickedness, Duka got close to his friend's ear and spoke in a seductive voice. "How bout I fuck you instead."