Memphis Streets 2 (Urban)

Chapter 1- Sasha

POW!

POW!

"What, nigga? What?" Snake roars.

Fat Ace clutches his bleeding hand but then charges toward Snake real low and manages to tackle him to the ground before Snake is able to squeeze off another shot. They hit the hardwood with a loud thump, and Snake's gun is knocked out of his hand. I need to get help. There's way too much blood pooling around me. I'm dying. Me and my baby.

"Is that all you got, nigga?" Fat Ace jams a fist into the center of Snake's face.

Blood bursts from Snake's thick lips and big nose like a red geyser. Tears rush down my face like a fucking waterfall. I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry. It's all I can tell my unborn child.

"Your ass gonna die tonight, you punk-ass bitch," Snake growls, slamming his fist into Fat Ace's jaw.

Christopher! My head snaps up. My son, Christopher, is in the other room. How can he sleep through all this noise? An image of Christopher, curled up in the bottom of his closet, trembling and crying, springs to my mind. I have to get to my baby. I slump over from the wall but lack the strength to stop my upper body's falling momentum. My face crashes into the hard floor, and I can feel a tooth floating in blood in my mouth.

Covered in sweat and blood, Snake and Fat Ace continue wrestling on the floor. Fat Ace, still naked, gets the upper hand for a second and sends a crushing blow across Snake's jaw. A distinguishable crack reverberates in the room. To my ears, the muthafaucka should be broken, but Snake ain't no ordinary nigga. And sure enough, in the next second, Snake retaliates, landing one vicious blow after another. A tight swing lands below Fat Ace's rib cage. Its force not only causes another crack, but it also lifts Fat Ace up at least a half foot in the air and gives Snake the edge in repositioning himself.

The punches flow harder and faster. The floor trembles as if we're in the middle of an earthquake. Snake is shoved against the side of the bed, and the damn thing flies toward my head. Lacking the energy to get out of the way, all I can do is close my eyes and prepare for the impact. The bed's metal leg slams into the center of my forehead with a sickening thud, and a million stars explode behind my eyes. The scuffling on the other side of the bed continues; more bone crushes bone. When I finally manage to open my eyes, Snake is trying to stretch his hand far enough to reach for a gun, but it is a few inches too far.

Fat Ace is doing all he can to make sure that shit doesn't happen. Watching all this go down, I realize that I don't give a fuck if they kill each other. Why should I? I'm already sentenced to death. I can feel its cold fingers settling into my bones. More tears flow as I have my last pity party. It's true what they say-your life does flash before your eyes. But it's not the good parts. It's all the fucked-up shit that you've done. Now that judgment is seconds away, I don't have a clue what I'm going to tell the man upstairs, that's a good sign that my ass is going straight to hell. I have to say good-bye to Christopher. Sucking in a breath, I dig deep for some reserved strength. Determined, I drag my body across the floor, crawling with my forearms.

POW!

To my right, the bedroom window explodes, and shards of glass stab parts of my body.

Snake and Fat Ace wrestle for control of the gun.

"Fuck you, muthafucka," one of them growls.

Still, I'm not concerned about their dumb asses. I need to see my baby one more time. However, I only get about half a foot before sweat breaks out across my brow and then rolls down the side of my face. How in the hell can I be cold and sweating at the same time?

POW!

POW!

POW!

More glass shatters. I turn my head in time to see Fat Ace's large, muscled ass dive out the window. Snake runs up to the muthafucka and proceeds to empty his magazine out the broken window.