make a bag. (discontinued) ⭢ 𝖬𝖩 ︎︎︎︎

💸 | THIRTY-NINE.

"known her ass for almost a year 'nd I watched her morph into a completely different person than she used to be... shit's crazy, man."

, Michael

•••

~Michael~

"You think we'll live long enough to leave here?" my best friend, Yasmin, questioned as we were out in front of her house sitting on the sidewalk, inattentively watching as cars passed through the neighborhood. It was almost midnight, and I was still living in South Carolina at the time. Bein' sixteen and still bein' with my brothers and no parents never had a positive effect 'cuz I ain't ask for any of it but aye, it is what the fuck it is.

"Hopefully." I shrugged, sitting to her left, "Do you?"

"I dunno. My mom is still havin' a hard time dealin' with Harlem's death—I don't think she'd wanna pack up and leave anytime soon." Yasmin told me, and I ducked my lips to the side unsure of how to respond.

Harlem was Yasmin's older sister. Shit, she was like an older sister to me. Harlem was always sure that Yasmin and me would end up together, but we simply saw each other as best friends. Yasmin already had a boyfriend anyway, and I was never too fond of relationships. Somethin' about 'em just never sat right with me, especially with the life that I live and my mindset.

Harlem dated my older cousin, Vincent, but him bein' the little reckless nigga he was, he got himself into some shit and for revenge, the niggas he had beef with got back at him and domed the one person that mattered to him most. When I found out about it, I was speechless. Besides my sister Rebbie, Harlem was probably the only other person who was confident that I would come out the streets alive. There's still a chance, but it's very slim.

Yasmin was out of it for at least half a year. I had to be there to comfort her for the next six months, talk her out of doin' some crazy ass shit, and I wasn't even mad about it. Yasmin had been my best friend since the seventh grade, I would'a gone to hell and back for her with zero remorse. She was the only person I would claim as family.

"There's no way I'm gettin' outta here, Michael." Yasmin said, breakin' me from my empty thoughts. "First my dad gets killed by the police, and then my mom loses her first daughter. I still can't believe it."

"Don't say shit like 'dat, Yas." I furrow my brows at her, "we're gettin' the fuck outta here. We'll go to... California or some shit. Somewhere far from here. Shit, maybe even out of the country."

"Nah," Yasmin dryly chuckles, "it's gonna be over for me one day, Michael, I can feel it." it went silent for a few seconds before she started to speak again, "As soon as you're able to, I want you to get a better life for yourself, somewhere far away from here. You deserve better, Michael, and you know it."

"Yasmin, why you talkin' like that?"

"I'm jus' bein' realistic." Yasmin genuinely says, "Promise me wherever you end up going, you're gonna meet a better group of friends more reliable than your brothers, and you gonna meet a really pretty girl that holds you down and makes you happy for as long as possible."

"Yasmin—"

"Promise me." she chimes, lookin' me in the eyes and holding out her right pinkie. Sighing, I interlaced my pinkie with hers, giving in.