The emotional sequel to "Will You Stay?" 🤍 [Please read first]
Jay's on his own now, left to figure out life after the death of his first love, Domonique, 5 years ago. He's working on himself, trying his best to be a good father, and searching fo...
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Jay
Never thought I'd say this, but I'm glad Correy ain't here.
I don't think I could handle him seeing me like this. Matter fact, I don't want nobody seeing me like this. Feel like I lost my mind two or three times in just a few weeks.
One moment, Raheem's a bloody, screaming mess and D's crying in my arms. The next, the place is cleared out like nothing happened.
I searched the house for at least an hour, thinking and hoping that if I looked hard enough, I'd find her. Thinking back to that moment now, I can't help but chuckle. How ridiculous I probably looked, covered in blood and tears, frantically searching a house that was so clearly empty.
Day 1 after everyone disappeared, I searched the entirety of New Orleans. Not a single place I didn't go that day-- every hospital, shelter, church, and club that I could think of. I did that until day 5, when Flora had convinced me and Wren to go to the police.
"Flo, man, this a bad idea. You know them people her brother involved wit'. If the police start looking for her now, they'll get Raheem and all them niggas gon' die," Wren reasoned. I was with her on that, but it wasn't looking like we'd find her on our own.
Flora smacked, turning to face Wren in the passenger seat. I was in the back, and it felt like I was a lil kid watching my parents fight. Correy may have seen me and Sierra do that a few times, and the thought made me miss him.
"Well there ain't shit else we could do! We've looked up and down the city for three days and haven't found nothing at all. The longer we wait to do this, the worse her chances of survival are."
Flora filed the missing persons report with as few incriminating details as she could possibly provide. I felt a glimmer of hope that maybe they would help find her. Eventually I learned that I was giving the police way too much credit. They don't give a fuck about finding missing Black girls or women, and I should have known that Domonique wouldn't have been any different.
***
Day 7 I screamed and screamed and screamed until a neighbor knocked on the door to ask if I was okay. I could barely mumble the word 'fine' without screaming that too. Everything was just raw, fucked up, terrible. Screaming was the only way I could get it out.
Being angry was useless when it wasn't no one to be mad at but myself. I'm the one who failed, failed us both. So for now, screaming would just have to do.
***
Day 10 I prayed. I don't normally talk to God, and it makes me feel guilty as hell. I only talk to Him when I need help. But I swore that if He brought her back to me, if He kept her safe, that I wouldn't go a day without praying ever again in my life. And so for the week after that, I prayed every morning and night that I would wake up and she'd be right next to me as if nothing ever happened.
