Imanni

Chapter 2: Foreseen Rejection

Wattpad always has me tripping, this is the right chapter loves.
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"How do you expect to work here when you got no college degree or even a high school education?" The lady behind the counter says, sizing me up and down while chewing loudly on her bubblegum.

"You sell candy, what do I need a college degree for?" I raise an eyebrow and her face turns red for some reason.

"Get out!" She shrieks and my eyes widen. "Get out before I call the cops!" I raise both hands, before leaving.

"Crazy white people," I scoff, refusing to give up.

I entered a bar this time, almost everyone turned to look at me. It was nicely decorated, clean and trim.

"Hey, you, is there anyway I can speak to the manager of this place?" I ask a woman behind the counter. I was a bit wary this time, since she was also white, but after sizing me up and down as I expected, she smiles.

"I'm her."

"Are you hiring?"

"Depends on who wants to get hired," she says, leaning a little towards me. She looked to be in her forties, thin blonde hair and dull blue eyes stared at me with lust. A bit uncomfortable, I decided that I needed to suck it up. For Gelan.

"I do." I tell her.

She had a drink, with brown liquor as it's content and she swirled her tongues over the rim of the glass, probably trying to seem attractive. It was just disgusting.

"I might need something if I'm about to hire you," she says lowly.

Is shawty serious?

"Look, ma, no disrespect, but I'm 25, you like 45, I ain't bout that life, I just need a job to get my sh•t together." Instead of understanding, her face turned pink like the other ladies.

"Imma just leave," I say, turning around, but she places her hand on my shoulder.

"Yo don't touch me," I snap, harshly pushing her hand away.

"Is there a problem?" A bulky guy comes over, and I kiss my teeth, starting to leave again, but he presses his hand to my chest, holding me in place. "I asked, if there was a problem."

"Ain't no problem," I said and he eyed me. By this time we were the center of attention, everyone looking at the black man.

"Bring him out back," the bulky man with the bald head said, and soon, two other bulky men were carrying me.

"Yo! Put me down!" Fear coursed through my heard as Gelan's face crossed my mind. They dragged me out to what I assumed to be the back, a grimy alleyway that had garbage, and smelt of cigars.

"You like calling ladies old huh?" The manager closed the door, the men behind me standing, probably waiting for her command.

"What is this? Look, i was just gonna leave. I said I didn't mean to disrespect—,"

"Shut up!" She screamed and my face contorted into one of extreme displeasure and discomfort.

"It's not even that deep though ma,"

"Teach him a lesson,"

"Teach me a lesson, for what though? Man y'all stupid as heck, let me go!" But they wouldn't budge, no matter how hard I fought back, their fists were harder, it was three against one, and I lost.

The gravel underneath me only supporting their blows as my head roughly grazed on it with each hit.

Punch after punch I finally just gave out, the first one spat on me, before they all just left me out there, bleeding.

I had to lie down still for a second, unable to move anything. The pain was almost unbearable, my eye fluttering as the fought to close themselves.

I tried to get myself up, but my body refused to cooperate, so I eventually had to give in, and let the darkness take over.

||.

The cold weather had the tip of my nose feeling like it was about to get picked off. I could hear the music from the bar, the stench of garbage returning to my senses.

Groaning, my eyes were still heavy as I reopened them. Everywhere hurt more now than before. But I had to get up, I had to get Gelan.

Forcing myself up by leaning  on the concrete wall, I huff tiredly, my shirt bloodied and torn. With a sigh, I drag my feet along the ground, and begin my way home.

I wasn't aware of the time, but it seemed late since the streets were empty, Breane was going to talk my head off. I thought about getting jacked, but then I realized that they really had nothing to take from me, other than my life; which the probably would since there's no telling what goes up in these men's head.

My mind subtly drifts to the place I was forced to call home. I wondered if my mom was still high off herself, I wondered if my father was still looking for me.

For years, I jumped from street to street, doing illegal stuff, getting locked up, and of course, being a man, which lead me to having Gee. I was sixteen when I dropped out, and for the mexf four years all I knew was trouble. Turning twenty, Gelan's mom, Kiara, dropped her off stating how she couldn't take care of her, and that she was going away with some man, five years later, at twenty five, I cleaned up my act somewhat, and tried my best to get myself together.

But it was proven difficult.

Problem number one, was that I was unemployed. No money means no food, no shelter, and definitely no clothes. The last place I worked at, was at a garage working for four hundred a month. It wasn't a lot, the rent alone took all of it, and I had to scrape my pockets for the rest. Then I got let go because business was slow, and now I'm stuck.

In any case, I'm sure all that would be on someone's mind, is to give up.

But I had Gelan, and I loved that little girl more than myself. I would give up my life, and my soul just for her to be free. And I can't provide everything for her, but it's a solid promise that everything I do is just gonna be for her, and the best thing I can do now is just to be there.

Me giving up, can never be an option, and if limping home during the late hours at night after searching for a job that I knew probably wasn't gone come today, was what I had to do to ensure that I was fighting for her future, then I'd do it everyday.

That little girl, in her little form and age, was the only one there for me in my darkest times, and I'll damned if I let the world take me away from her.

Not without ensuring that she had everything she needed and wanted.

Upon the small apartment complex, grew roses that I myself had the luxury of growing. I picked one, careful to remove the thorns, and entered the building, with blood that matched the colors of the petal.