Three Years Ago
TW// Graphic material; Extreme Violence; Gore; Substance Abuse; Effects of Substance Abuse
"Do dat shit." Angelo encouraged as Boodah lined up the barrel of his gun to Rick's head.
After a year of careful planning between Boodah, Angelo, and his crew, he was finally able to "take care" of his biggest burdens.
"Jerome please don't! I'm sorry." Rick said, fumbling over his words.
It amused Boodah.
"Please don't?" He mocked. "That don't sound familiar to you? How 'bout 'stop'? That ring a bell?"
The punk only cried louder, prompting Boodah to knock him in his head with his tool. Angelo also dragged a blade along the side of his face.
"Answer his fuckin' question." Lo gritted.
"I already said I was sorry, what more do you want?"
"I want you to suffer." Boodah said with an emotionless expression.
He took his dagger and sliced Rick's forehead open. A waterfall of blood covered his face. This made Boodah laugh.
"Crazy how you used to call me colored. Now looka you. Red and purple." He laughed.
"Ahhhh, you goin to hell fa dat one." Angelo clowned.
"Imma catch his ass there." Boodah said driving his blade into Rick's stomach and twisting it around.
He coughed up blood as his eyes rolled back.
"You bet not die yet. I ain't done wit you." He smirked. "Bring that bitch in."
Angelo got up and dragged Jerome's mother into the room with them.
Her screams would have been deafening if she hadn't been gagged.
"Aww, hi mommy." Boodah grinned. "Look what I did for your little boyfriend."
Tears streamed down her face as she continued her attempts at screaming.
"Why you crying, white bitch?" Angelo questioned, kicking her in her neck.
"She's upset cause her man got a fancy makeover and she didn't." Boodah said before crouching down to her level. "It's okay ma, I gotchu. You gonna look just like him when I'm done witchu."
•••
"Here bro, drink this." Angelo said passing him a small cup of apple cider vinegar mixed with water.
He'd been throwing up all night. He clearly wasn't coping with his recent executions well.
"Thought this shit woulda been easy." He sighed.
This definitely wasn't his first body, but this was the first one that hit close to home.
He thought he would just feel a bit guilty, but he was physically ill.
Did he regret it?
He walked back to his room and looked for his secret stash of narcotics. He popped two Xanax to help him sleep.
•••
"Jerome!" Jayla said aggressively while shaking him awake.
"Yeah, boo?" He said back groggily.
"You okay? Why you fall asleep?" She said putting his piece back in his pants.
