⇒ CHAPTER NINETEEN

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James 4:17

So whoever knows the right thing to do and fails to do it, for him it is sin.

𝐀𝐂𝐄
♤♤♤♤♤

3 years ago.

"You need to be back for 5:00 pm ace, i mean that. Get to school, get right back. You understand me?" My father spends more time scolding me about being in certain places than he ever spends actually trying to teach me anything better than what i know already.

This is my last year of high school and i have absolutely no doubt that it was this very man that paid my principle just to get me to actually make it past the finishing line, how else can me graduating be explained?

"You hear me?" He barks as i walk right away from him gripping onto my school bag from it's brand new arm, which my parents immediately got me the second they laid sight on my ripped one. They couldn't bear the thought of the world actually seeing me as any worse than they already have been.

"Ace!" My footsteps stop to turn around to face my father, the look of worry he has tries to hide under his masked frustration, that's a feeling i know only too well.

"What do you want from me?" I speak through gritted teeth, me and my father haven't always gotten along the best. Not since childhood, not since i only knew him to be a dad, but that was all the figment of my imagination because as the years went by the secrets began to release themselves and tore our relationship apart.

Especially since finding out what the life i could have had was, that my biological father is some multi millionaire who sits high and mighty in his office, with a staff ready to swing at anybody who makes a mistake. He has power, real power. and i could have had that too, but it was robbed from me, so i would be stuck in this place instead, with a life like this instead.

"Forget it, just have a good day." he shakes off his original thought before walking out of my sight leaving me standing in the hallway of the house we just moved into a few years back, moving from New York to Philly was one of the biggest changes i never thought i would have to go through,

The streets are different here in Philly, crime is different down here in Philly. It might just be because I'm 18 now but sue me, there is a painfully sweet feeling of freedom down here that i never had down in New York. sure my father moved us all down here for the sake of a better life and his church expanding but all i saw was a new opportunity to finally get to be myself.

The smooth floors almost squeak from how perfectly polished they are, the wide space ironically chocks me as i take another step closer to the front entrance, not because of stress but because of another thing weighing me down. Because of the weight of what i carry in my backpack, not with the actual intention of harming anyone of course, but because down here i need to keep myself safe. Thankfully i haven't had to use it yet, but something in me feels as though if it might actually take some of the pain away...

It's a theory I'm not willing to test.

Not yet.

My eyes turn when i see the huge family portrait beside me hung on the the wall like it was meant to speak purposely to me every time i walk out of these doors, and it does. EVERY TIME. A caramel colored wooden frame holds a huge portrait of the Davis's.

My mother, Aaliyah, dressed to perfection as always in a black off the shoulder dress that drapes all the way down to the floor, a diamond necklace around her neck that sparkles even through a photo, her brown skin is painted humbly with some makeup and a harsh red lip that almost takes the attention away from her signature straight jet black hair that drops down to her back,

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