Will You Stay? (Urban)

4

Domonique

"You know you I could drive you home, right?" I stood on the porch and he leaned on the door frame.

"Yeah you could, but what fun would that be?" I reached out and hugged him, deeply inhaling his scent. These couple of weeks with him been something I've never experienced before. I had someone to turn to.

The walk home was always silent and dark but I ain't mind it. Anything was better than having someone know where or who I live with. There was some things I was not completely honest about and I didn't know when I would tell him. Jay was going through a pretty rough time right now and I wanted him to heal without worrying about me.

After a 40 minute walk I arrived at the projects I stayed in. Before I could get inside my place I had to walk through drunk or high men with their annoying catcalls.

"Ay! Lil mama, come fuck with a real nigga. Fine ass," someone slurred. I rolled my eyes and adjusted the bag on my shoulder. Today was lighter than most nights and it was easier to get where I was going. I lived on the third floor of the rundown buildings. You see, where Jay lives is safe and not too deep in the hood. Down here, you'll get popped if you look wrong.

I tapped on the door lightly and got no response, meaning it was safe to go in. The ceiling hung low inside and the place looked trashed. There she was on the couch, strung out. There were white lines on the table and powder on her nose.

It was like this almost everyday.

The only refuge I had was going to Jaylen's house. I never wanted him to come here and see any of this.

I stepped over the food wrappers and walked to my room. It felt like it was a completely different place compared to the living room. The carpet was white and you could see it, unlike the matted dirty one that sat just before my door. The bed sat against the wall and everything was neatly placed. I put my bag down and stepped back outside to help her.

I took a napkin and wiped the cocaine off of her nose then carried her to the restroom. She was still unconscious but was breathing, which is better than the other days I've found her. I went back outside to clean up the mess that was left.

"Where the fuck am I?" I rushed back into the bathroom and found her with a razor in her hand. "Who the f-fuck are you?" She swung at me, cutting me in the process. Blood trickled down my cheek as I struggled for her to loosen her grip.

"Shanti, Shanti it's me," I said sternly. Looking into my eyes once more I felt her muscles relax. She fell onto me.

"It's okay, it's cool. I got you." I sat her back down on the toilet and started the bath. When warm water filled the tub halfway, I stopped the faucet. After helping her get undressed, she stepped inside. I used a loofah to wash her, starting with her back. Ashanti knew what was happening now, and was slowly gaining consciousness.

What I told Jay about my family was true for the most part. My brothers lived in New York and I did not get to see them a lot because of what they were involved in. I resented their occupation so much and wanted nothing to do with it. It made them good money but also put a target on their backs. Street life wasn't for me and I didn't want any part of it. I asked them not to send me any of the money they made illegally.

Why would anyone hate making money?  Selling whatever the fuck they sold hurt people's lives, like it did to Ashanti. I lived with her only because my other option was a shelter. My brothers lived down here but had to handle some business in New York. They informed me that it was safer for me if they just stayed up there and I stayed here.

I didn't care as long as it kept me out of whatever they did. I know Raheem and Jordan loved me and they would respect my wishes even if it meant they couldn't see me that much. When they left, Jordan introduced me to his friend, Ashanti, and he bought us a place to stay. Not exactly in the hood, but not too safe either.