Chapter 9: Sapphire

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Shakil's POV

- Ah, shit! They're back, already? Quick, you go in the kitchen and I will hide the weed!

- Are you finish, though?

- Ya, I'm done. Just hurry!

I hear the sound of a key trying to break free and a door slam open.

- We're baaack, the mom says.

Then the little kid comes rushing up the stairs with a gigantic smile on his face. It seems like he's the only happy one in this house. But he's also just a little kid too. Terrence greets his parents with big hugs and lots of kisses.

- Did you behave? mom asks.

- Yeeees!

- Good. You want a snack?

- I w-want Nutella!

- Nutella, again? Too much sweets is not good for you, Terrence. Ugh, have a seat.

- Okaaay, he says a little disappointed.

- Oh, hey, Shakil! I see you did the dishes, good! Now you can head downstairs and sweep the basement floor. The dust always accumulates down there. Especially in the laundry room.

- Okay.

That's all I say. What else should I add? I'm already mad that my job consists of cleaning someone else's house with a bizarre wannabe rich family whose skin is Black but doesn't act like it. And this is just the first day. But I do have advantages. Like I can leave at any time I want. There's no schedule. But I want this money. Best believe Imma do anything in my power to make the most money out of this job possible. I go down in their basement and come face to face with the older brother. He looks at me for a split second then goes back to his video game. This geek is playing Minecraft?! This nigga better man the fuck up.

- You still play Minecraft?

- Yes.

- Ya find it fun?

- Yes.

- You never thought of switching Minecraft to GTA instead? Or Assassin's Creed? Hell, even Facebraker? Ya neva thought of it?

- No.

- Why?

- Because.

- Aight, fam, whatever. Do you, I guess.

I can tell that he isn't bothered with my presence one single bit. This nigga really doesn't give a fuck. Me neither, actually.

- Do you know where the broom is?

- R-r-r-r-ri-ri-rig-

- Whoa, nigga chill!

What the fuck was that? Did ya'll get that? Did ya'll understand? He sounded like a dog attempting to speak in human form. That was weird. This house is weird. He looked at me, longer this time, and just put back his focus on his video game. He wants to tell me where the broom is but it's like he verbally can't. Well then I guess I ain't sweepin'! I sit down on the couch near him. He's bothered by that. He doesn't like me near him so I back off a little. He's already more relaxed and calm. This time, I go slower. I ask him the same question with the same words and the same result again. I did not get what he said. Not even one word. I'm quite concerned, actually. 

- Wassup, dude? You got something in yo' mouth or something?

- No.

- Ya got problems speaken?

- No.

- Yes you do. I asked you the same question, twice, and you couldn't answer it. Why's that?

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