My Roommate

23

𝚃𝚢𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚔

I was making a brick for lunch since I ain't eating that mystery meat shit they serving in the Cafe. I smiled at the picture of Adri that she mailed me of her. My baby. I'll see you in a month.

I keep my head down and mind my business, which keeps me out of trouble and closer to being released. All I do is work out when they let me, play basketball by myself, sleep, or read. I'm not here to make friends with these niggas. Shit, I don't even know my cellmate name, and I'm okay wit that. I know how them jail patnas' be. You think about em onna daily, feeling bad that you out and they not. You try to write and keep up wit em when you know its real. That's until they get relocated or die and now you feeling this emptiness over a nigga who was bound to die anyways. 

As I finished making my food, a nigga walked in my cell, just standing there. It was some nigga, you could tell he was old as fuck, the nigga was just buff and active. The more I started at him he was kinda familiar looking. He was brown skin, tall, and buff. Shit, I know bout six niggas just like that.

"Yoo?" I furrowed my eyebrows at him. 

He stared at me as if he seen a ghost. 

"I ain't wit allat gay shit, bruh." I smacked my teeth, taking a bite out of my snack. 

I looked back over at the bars and the nigga was gone causing me to grab my book and read as I ate. I heard clinks making me look over and the nigga was back! This time he was holing a piece of crinkled up paper in his hands. 

"Nigga, do I look like a prostitute?" I furrowed my eyebrows looking him up and down.

He just stood there, holding the piece of paper out to me. "Why you don't talk?" I mean mugged, getting up and walking over to him and grabbing the piece of paper from him. 

My heart sank to my ass once I was staring at a picture of me I hadn't seen in forever. It was me and my dad at a Lakers game. I think that was our one and only happy moment together. My mom's head was in the corner of the picture since she was taking it, but you could see her smile. Her teeth was hella perfect before she started doing fucking crack and shit. 

I just looked up at this mysterious ass nigga. "Where you get this?" I asked.

He pointed at the smaller me and then pointed at me, furrowing his eyebrows as if he was asking if that was me. "That is me." I mean mugged.

He just stared at me before staring at the picture. He pointed to my dad on the picture and then slowly pointed back to himself. 

Oh fuck no. I don't have time for this bullshit. 

Now I see why this nigga so fucking familiar. The bitch raised me. It took everything in me not to send his old ass flying through them bars. "Nigga?" 

He stayed quiet.

"You lucky I got a girl waiting on me to come, so we can actually raise our child. You know, cause I don't plan on walking outta my child's life." I shrugged, tears falling down my face, but I didn't even bother to wipe them. 

He stayed quiet. The more I looked at him, the more I remembered him.

His face lit up. "Ima be a grandpa?" 

"So, now you talk?" I scuffed. "Nigga, you couldn't even be a fucking father to me. Why would I ever trust you around my kids? Nigga, get the fuck on." I spat, going to my bunk and picking up my book. 

"I got locked up that night." He mumbled. 

"Wow." I laughed. "I don't care." 

"Yo mama was mad I took you to Atlanta even though she was never home when we was in New York. She showed up on that shit, man. She climbed up yo window, so I shot the bitch and killed her. And I killed her crackhead ass friends, too. I been locked up this whole time." He shrugged as if he was trying to get me to understand.

"Why would I believe you?" I scuffed, my face still in my book.

"Why would I lie?"

"I don't know, pops. Ain't nobody seen or heard from you since you just up and left me wit somebody else and they kids." I laughed. 

"Tyreek-"

"You didn't write." I sniffled as tears coated my page. "You didn't call."

"What-"

"Nobody even knew if you was still alive, nigga." I cried. "I grew up calling another nigga my father, and when he died, I was just left wit out one. All because mines didn't fucking care enough." I spat. "Was I too much to ask for, pop?" I spat, in a mocking tone.

"Tyreek-"

"You was young? Didn't want kids? Would rather fuck a crack fiend than take care of the child YOU fuckin' made?" I laughed.

"Son-"

"I will never be yo fuckin son." I spat, the sound of the name leaving a disgusting taste in my mouth. "Ain't never gone be like you either, no matter how much people try to make it seem. I will always take care of my child, no matter what. I ain't never gone disappear on my baby when they need me the most, ROBERT, because that's what a real fucking father is, a real fucking man is!" I spat. 

"Now can you leave before I put my hands on you?" I mumbled, laying down on the bunk.

He just sighed. "I don't wanna be the reason you don't get to go home to your kid, man. Just know, I'm ready to talk whenever you are. Cell ten." 

"Alright." I laughed, knowing that would never happen. 

There was silence and then he was just.. gone. 

Again.