One In A Milyon 2 (Urban Fiction)

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Wake up, bitch!" Milyon heard someone yell. She jumped out of her sleep, her eyes opened. Her heart pounded when she met with the eyes of him, he was her attacker. She quickly sat up as best as she could, pull her knees up to her chest and the shirt she’d been given by Torran over her knees. A worried look covered her face.

“Fuck you think you coverin’ up, hm?” Bullet asked, a menacing chuckle followed his question. It was him. I should’ve known it was him! Milyon thought, recognizing Bullet, his face was forever embedded in her memory. She would never forget those cold, evil eyes. She figured he was back to finish what he’d started. He was coldhearted human being. He was dark-skinned, had wrinkled, loose looking skin on his face, his eyes were low. His caesar cut was low, and his dark brown hair had a deep grey patch in a section of it. He was pretty tall, and had an extremely muscular build, like he’d been in the army or to prision. He wore all black from head to toe. Milyon was scared she would never be able to escape this lunatic but she didn’t want to lose hope.

He etched towards the bed, a mean mug on his face. Milyon cried, scared that he was going to kill her just like he’d done her parents.

“Why? I didn’t do anything to you! Just let me go.” Milyon sobbed. Bullet approached the bed, stopping when he was near her head; Milyon’s eyes were shut tight.

“Let me tell you a story. See, before I was introduced to this life, I was a normal kid, growing up in the hood. My mother was a fuckin’ dope fiend, and my pops was always beating her ass. But she never fucking left! We was already broke and I couldn’t get a job for shit,” Bullet stroked Milyon’s curly, tangled tendrils. Milyon listened and cried, she didn’t know what he was getting at. “Around this time, ya’ old man was hustling, doing it big in the streets, he was on a come up. He went from selling nickel and dime bags to running his very own operation. I can’t lie; I was envious of the nigga. I wanted that life. We was both around nineteen years old but he was living like a grown man, he had a bad bitch on his arm and a lil’ one on the way. I wanted that so bad. So, one day I go up to ya’ pops damn near begging him to put me on… you know what he did?” Bullet paused, looking at Milyon who wasn’t looking at him.

He continued. “He laughed in my face. He called me a homeless bum, and got in his nice ass whip and sped off. Leaving me standing there, looking like a dumbass. I was a neighborhood laughing stock. I was feeling like fuck the world, I knew nobody didn’t give a fuck about me but my moms but she was too doped up to do anything for me. One day when I walked in on my pops beating the dog shit out of my mama, I ran to his room, grabbed his gun and shot his ass.” Bullet chuckled. “Holding that gun and pulling the trigger was the most amazing feeling in the world. I was sent to prison but not for long. I got out seven years later… out for blood. I was a whole new man. I found some connects while I was doing my bid; I was on some come up shit. But I was never at the top; Big Mike was the one at the top… once a fuckin’gain. He was so busy enjoying his fame that he didn’t know I was lurking in the shadows, plotting on his ass.” Bullet paused again, like he was thinking.

Milyon had a feeling where this was going, he continued. “But no more than two years later, I got hit with another charge. I was in that muthafucka’ for a year when your pops ended up being my cellmate. That was the best shit that could’ve ever happened. And guess what? The nigga didn’t even know who the fuck I was but I used that to my advantage. He was gon’ pay for the way he treated me but I had to be cordial and play buddy-buddy wit’ his ass. He told me a lot of shit, he told me about you all. He even showed me pictures. You and yo’ mama had them same grey eyes, Daliea sho’ was bad as hell.” He said with a grin on his face, referring to Milyon’s mother. Milyon moved her head away from him, he was a damn pervert.