Too Far Gone (Urban)

56| Answers: The Beginning

11 Years Ago...

“Happy birthday, dear Niqo… Happy birthday to you!”

     Niqo felt himself being shaken by his friends as they congratulated him. He grinned, shaking his head at them before he grabbed a hold of his fire bomb shot glass. Looking at the gentle blue flame, he eyed his closest friend, Hakeem. “Nigga, you sure this shit won't set me on fire from the inside out?”

     Hakeem cackled along with the others, shaking his head. “Nah man, fire needs oxygen, or some shit like that.” Niqo squinted at him, then he, too, shook his head. He licked his lips before throwing his head back and downing the shot, the flame tickling his mouth as it went down the hatch. The bitter tasting alcohol burned his throat, and he let out a hoarse groan as he sat upright, his face forming a hard grimace.

     The boys cheered, slapping him up again. Niqo was officially fourteen, a freshman in high school. Him and his boys only had three more years together before they were out this joint. He wasn't sure what he wanted to do yet, but maybe he'll figure it out when it was his time to decide. Hakeem sat next to Niqo at the table, leaning back against it.

     Hakeem’s aunt has an overnight shift at the hospital, so he decided to use her crib to host Niqo's birthday party. The boys raided her liquor cabinet and the rest was history. Hakeem observed the party from where he sat, watching his homeboys drink, smoke, acting like straight fools. A few chicks were at the party, but there wasn't any in particular that caught his eye.

     “You're a bad influence on me,” Niqo spoke over the music, staring into his empty cup. Hakeem glanced at him, a toothy grin spread wide across his face.

     “They call me 'Rascal' for a reason,” he shrugged, “I don't even know why you hang out with me, to be honest.”

     “The niggas in my grade are boring.”

     “I know,” Hakeem cackled. “You different, though, fo'real. I would've never guessed you were a freshman, lil’ nigga.” He ruffled Niqo's hair. Niqo retaliated to the gesture and shoved his hand away, laughing.

     “Nah, but fo’real,” Hakeem continued, “You real different for your age, man.”

     “Guess that means I should've been born two years earlier,” Niqo shrugged.

     “You def’ right about that,” Hakeem agreed. It was pushing on one in the morning, but the party didn't seem to be dying down anytime soon. “How long you plannin’ on staying?”

     “I might go now, honestly,” Niqo scratched his neck. “I promised my ma I'd only stick around 'til twelve. She brought me a cake or some shit.”

     “Wow, well you better get going. I'll drop you off if you want.”

     “Thanks man.”

❦

Niqo crept into his home with caution. It was way past his promised time; he wasn't sure what his mom would do to him when she saw him. Sneaking into the kitchen, he found his mother seated at the table with her head rested in the palms of her hands. In front of her sat a chocolate frosted cake, the words “Happy Birthday Baby!” written in yellow icing a few inches away from a candle.

     The candle itself had burned out, leaving a nub in a pool of solidified wax. Instantly, he felt culpable. She probably waited up for him all night, and here he was two hours after the time he promised. He gently shook her until she woke up, her eyes fluttering open.