𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖘𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖒 | d.f. |

🦋 dominic2 🦋

[ 6:42 PM ]

"what the fuck was up with that girl earlier?" i question after exhaling the smoke from my lungs, passing the blunt to my nigga max.

we're having a smoke session on the floor of our pretty new apartment. it's still vacant and needs more furniture but it's ours and we can finally do what the hell we want.

as much as that sounds amazing and me wishing i can bask in that glory, the only thing i can think about is the buzzing sensation that went through my entire body when i bumped into her. it was like electricity ran it's way through me. it made me drop my glass.

"she's the girl that got that crazy ass mama that never stops yelling," max explains, hitting the blunt.

"yooo, she's gotta deal with that hoe? we stay hearin' her yelling and she's a few buildings down," my brother alex exclaims. "at least we know who she be yellin' at."

"damn, if she wasn't such a bitch like her mom, she'd be ten times badder," i say as max passes the blunt to alex.

"she is cute," alex agrees, plucking the blunt from max's hand and taking a hit.

"remember when i ran into her mom and she-"

i look up from staring at the floor, confused as to why he suddenly stopped talking.

red liquid slides down from his eyes. he stares in fright at the drops of what i presume to be blood on his fingers.

"yo, you good?!" i ask, standing abruptly.

max tries to speak and instead coughs, blood spraying directly onto alex's face.

alex stands, terror written in his expression, wiping at his cheeks, smearing max's blood.

"oh fuck!" he curses, showing me his bloody hands, looking between max and i.

"max, are you good?!" i ask again, turning my attention back to him.

he tries to speak again but instead falls over gasping for air, blood coming out of his mouth and puddling on the floor next to him.

i bend down to try to help, lifting his head up as his body starts to convulse.

what the hell is going on right now?

"alex call 911!" i demand.

"dude! there's blood on me!" he whines.

"CALL 911!" i grit at him.

this is not the time to be thinking about blood being on you. something is wrong with our boy.

"we have weed!" he yells back at me.

"fuck man! call 911! i'll fucking handle it. stay with max. keep his head leveled!"

i get up and collect our weed, going to stash it in the bathroom cupboard behind the stack of tissue. i go back into the living room area and spray some smell good in the air to hopefully mask the smell.

"he-he just collapsed," i hear alex say as i walk toward him and max. "he's bleeding from his eyes, mouth, and now nose."

i look over alex to see max, barely breathing, blood nonstop flowing from what seems to be all of his open crevices. as i look further, i notice blood coming from his ears.

i snatch the phone from alex, setting it to my ear.

"we need an ambulance. NOW! my brother is dying!"

"we have dispatched a unit and they are on their way sir. is there any way CPR can be performed?"

i clench the phone in my fist and try to strain from chunking it across the room.

"it's too late for fucking CPR. JUST GET SOMEONE HERE!"

i push the phone into alex's hand and move him out of the way. i prop max's head up with my knees and hold him.

"i-i-"

"no bro! don't speak. save your energy. They're on their way bro," i tell him, my eyes welling over. his body temperature is drastically decreasing, his face is pale as fuck and i can tell time is running out. "you've always been there for me when i needed you," i say, grabbing his hand with mine. "i love you bro! we love you bro!"

i don't know what to say to someone who i can tell is losing their life right in front of me.

this is my homie. he been with me through thick and fucking thin. i can't lose him.

and to what?

what the hell caused this?

i watch in pain and agony as my brother slowly dies in my arms.

tears stream down my cheeks and i look at alex, who's staring back at the unmoving max in my lap. he looks at me, tears in his eyes, standing.

i run my hand over his eyes, closing them for him. i pull him up to my chest and hold him in my grasp, crying into his shoulder.

the paramedics arrive 10 minutes too late. they pry his dead corpse from me and i watch as they zip his body up into a black bag, wheeling him away.

i smoke a cigarette while being questioned outside our apartment.

"and you guys were just hanging out when he started to bleed from everywhere?" the officer asks.

"yeah," i speak, monotone.

it's fucking stupid how all this shit is. i get questioned when someone dies of clear natural causes. i've never even seen anything like that before. i've never seen someone die like that.

so much fucking blood... just flowing out.

someone walks into my peripheral view and i turn my head to see who it is.

the bitchy girl from earlier.

her face is contorted into confusion as she looks between the officer and i.

"do you know any relatives?"

"they didn't give a shit about him," i tell him, as me and her don't take our eyes off each other until she passes, heading back to her apartment probably.

"the coroner will perform tests about the cause of death and he'll make an autopsy. that'll be around 24 to 72 hours. you're going to have to request to see the report, possibly pay a fee."

i roll my eyes.

"yeah."

"i'm so sorry sir," the guy states, offering me a solemn look. he rips a piece of paper off his pad and hands it to me. he walks away. i crumble the paper in my palm, going back inside my apartment, slamming the door.