6 | home sweet home

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The frigid Philly weather welcomed me back with big, freezing arms

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The frigid Philly weather welcomed me back with big, freezing arms. Georgia was still warm this time of the year, but the east coast was a different story as it already began to make its transition into the winter. Nothing like home, they say. Despite my dislike for the low temperature, nothing felt better than landing at the PHL airport and seeing my brother in law parked in the waiting zone, right on time.

"Damn nigga, you get any bigger and I'ma have to start goin harder in the gym." Ron stepped back, glancing me over as if he hadn't seen in me years instead of six months.

It was a long six months, indeed.

I chuckled, sizing him up, "Yeah, you better. You can't young bull me anymore, I'm grown."

"That's never going to end." he knocked me in the arm, causing me to stumble back a few steps.

"Aiight, keep playin, Marley gonna have to come down here and do CPR on ya ass." I playfully warned him.

After I hauled all of my luggage into the trunk, I hopped in on the passenger side. Meek Mill was blasing on the radio, and as Ron turned it down he asked, "So what happened to your girl coming down?"

I shrugged, "Said her parents wouldn't be feeling the idea."

"Damn, I know how that long distance shit gets. She been blowing you up since she left, I bet."

No..she actually wasn't. That was the strange part. Demani, who always loved to be up under me and know my every move despite her own hectic life, had been MIA. At first, I didn't let it get the best of me - I figured she was getting reaccumulated to her home life with her strict parents and two hands full of siblings, but after my third text message attempt was ignored, I knew something was up. Between that and the champsionship bowl, my brain was bouncing from one irritation to the next.

Without a response, I fixated on the heavy traffic that passed by us on 76. Thankfully, we didn't live too far from the airport, just fifteen minutes out of Philly in Drexel Hill county.
There were no rustic urban homes or neighborhood corner stores in sight, just large shingle style mansions that told me immediately that I was out of the hood. As a kid, living in a dingy two bedroom that barely had the neccessities, it was safe to say I didn't see a bright future for myself.
I was sure that I would be forced to choose a certain lifestyle to survive, especially seeing as though that was my pop's way of living and my mother's way of clinging to life.

Drugs, violence, and a toxic environment that had groomed me since birth. It wasn't until I was ten that Marley showed up with some new nigga that was ballin, who had swept our asses away like Prince Charming his damn self. From that point on, I knew Ron was family, blood or not.

Within a short stretch of twenty minutes we were pulling into the driveway, and as I spotted Marley's truck, I looked over to Ron, "You still kept it quiet about me coming home early?"

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