Living Proof

Chapter One (Disowned)

"Leave him alone," screamed a crying mother, "that's my baby." A mother was fighting her abusive husband to free her only son, Trey Campbell, from the clutches of the man who was pushing him out the front door of their one-story apartment. "Mama!" Trey hollered back as he held onto the door frame from being put out the one place, he had called home. "Mama!!" Trey hollered again; his mother grabbed him by the hand until her husband smacked her to the hardwood floor. Trey had tears in his eyes at the sight of his mother laying there motionlessly while her lip started to form blood where she was struck. "Get your shit and take your sissy ass on somewhere else." The abusive father shouted as he threw Trey's things on the porch. It was in the middle of August, and it had started to rain hard. "Dad, where am I supposed to go?" Trey tried to plead through the other side of the door, "it's raining, and I have nowhere to go or money to eat." His father looked at him through the window and for a split second, his father thought about what he had done to his only son, but he then shook off that feeling. "Trey, I know you don't understand right now, but you will once you get older." His father stated from inside the apartment. "Understand what? Huh?" Trey was shedding tears, left and right, "understand that my own father doesn't want anything to do with me, because of who I am." Trey stood there waiting for a response and he then heard the door unlock. Trey wiped his face and picked up his things and waited for the door to open, but instead, his mother came outside, "Trey, I love you and I know it's not much, but here's what I took from your father when he wasn't looking." She handed him a hundred-dollar bill, "I love you baby and I know God will make sure you are well taken care of." His mother gave him a long hug and she then wiped her tears. "But, what about you?" Trey concernedly asked knowing it wasn't safe for his mom to stay. "I'll be alright baby, just know that I am always with you." She smiled and turned away to proceed into the apartment.

In the rain, Trey walked until he found a safe and quiet place to let out his feelings of being thrown away like a piece of garbage. He seen a spot in a local park a few blocks down the street of his old house; he walked over to a green park bench and plopped down and proceeded to cry out his little heart. A few moments later, the rain stopped pouring and he took shelter underneath a weeping willow tree, "I guess I'm not the only one whose crying." Trey said to himself. Even in his darkest moments, he always seemed to find light in the tunnel. He laid his head on one of the bags that he had carried, and the other held tight in his arms; a few seconds later he was out like a light. The next morning, Trey went to a local gas station to buy some toiletries for his journey ahead of him, but first he needed to freshen up. "Excuse me, may I get the keys to the bathroom? I need to clean myself up." Trey asked the salesclerk. She raised one eyebrow. "Don't try any funny business," she stated as she handed him the bathroom keys, "I have cameras everywhere." Trey took the keys and thanked the clerk. Inside of the men's restroom, Trey stared hard at his reflection in the mirror and then closed his eyes. He replayed the last conversation he and his mother had. "...I am always with you." Trey opened his eyes and look inside his backpack, tears formed from the sight of a picture his mom put into his bag. It was a picture of Trey and his mother when he was six years old. He placed the picture back into his bag, dried his eyes and exited the restroom. On his way to return the bathroom key, he heard commotion coming from the front of the store, so he crept up to get a better look. It was a guy with a gun demanding money out of the register, the clerk had a frighten look on her face as she stood there shaking. "I am not going to ask anymore, give me the damn money or take this bullet to the head." The armed robber shouted. Three seconds had passed, and there was a gun shot. Trey couldn't believe his eyes. The armed robber ran out of the gas station into his getaway car; Trey ran to the lady to see if she was dead and to his surprise, she was still alive, "are you okay?" Trey asked as he dialed 9-1-1 on the store's phone. "You. You did this, you were in on it this whole time." The clerk turned her angered towards Trey, "I'm calling the police." She yelled. "9-1-1, what's your emergency?" The operator asked. "I've been shot by a gang of black guys and..." before she could finish, Trey hung the phone up, grabbed his things and a few other items and took off out the door.

Later that evening, Trey was exhausted from all the running and walking, so he took a break to catch his breath and rest his limps. He put his head in his lap and he began to pray, "Dear God, please allow my mother to be safe with my abusive father and God, I pray that I make it to where I am going safe and sound, in Jesus name. Amen." He gathered his things and proceeded on with his journey; about ten minutes from where he had prayed, Trey came across a bus station. He stood there looking at the people boarding and getting off the buses. He turned around to see where he had come and looked forward to where he was going. "May I get a ticket to Atlanta, Georgia?" Trey asked politely. "Sure, I just need you to fill out this paperwork and pay the ticket fee, which is $75, and that's including change." The worker stated with a wink. Trey filled out the forms and paid his fee and the gentleman gave Trey his ticket, "you be safe out there okay. God is watching you." The male worker left Trey with a positive word. "Attention all traveling patrons, Bus 92 going to Atlanta, Georgia, is ready to board. Be sure to grab all your items." The announcer declared into the microphone. "Well Trey, this is your goodbye." He thought to himself. He was leaving Alabama, to start a new life in Atlanta, Georgia.