Chapter 17

10.6K 494 29


The nigga I thought was the closet to me, tried to rape my girl! Well my sister. I'm still trying to get used to the fact that Janelle is my sister. She was 'that' girl. I never in my entire life felt that type of way about a girl. I was gone marry her. But thanks to my fucked up ass sister Pamella she ruined that dream. Shit crazy round here. You can't even trust family, they'll fuck you over as quick as a nigga in the street. I trust no one. I'm paranoid, everyone around me just letting me down, fucking me over. Terrence was my nigga, thought I could trust him but he tried to rape my fucking sister in my damn home.

I didn't mean for Janelle to see such a monstrous side of me, but I had to let him know, he wasn't gone her away with that shit. I'm still bewildered by the whole situation. It played over and over in my head, the images in my mind affected my thoughts. His blood on my floor, I felt like I was turning into something I'm not. I honestly don't know if Terrence is dead or alive. And to tell you the truth is don't give a fuck. Sick ass niggas like him deserve to die, they aren't worth the air we breathe. Bitch couldn't get no pussy so he felt like he had to take it, desperate ads boy.

It's sad, real sad. I continued to scrub the remaining of blood off the floor with Clorox, and thought. Thought about that pie ass nigga. Thought about how much of a botch he was to try and are somebody! It mad my fucking balls itch. The sight of his per-vetish body lying on top of my sisters made my blood boil.

What made me mad overall was the fact that Pam "says" she didn't hear not a damn thing, when her room is right next door! How can't you hear someone screaming for mercy when their about to be raped. I was out walking, clearing my head to come bck home to more bull shit.

I sense something real fishy about the whole situation, and if I got to kill everybody in my path to feel safe then so be it! Because I won't sleep to I get to the bottom of this shit. Call me crazy, but I just call it being cautious.


I lay in this hospital bed mad as fuck! Motherfucker shot my fucking dick off. Pussy ass boy couldn't stand up and fight me like a ducking man? Weak ass boy! Thought he was my ducking nigga, and he up and shoot my three times.

I managed to drag myself to a curb, and some white bitch with some round ass tittites placed me in her car and drove me to the hospital.

Thankfully she did. I think I would've died honestly. I laid there and thought. I was so pissed off with that nigga. He owe me a dick ! The nurse came in and cleaned me up, and have me some anabiotics. I drifted off to sleep, with hate on my mind.


I woke up to see my mother sitting in the chair next me with tears streaming down her face. "Boy, what I told you 'bout running these damn streets" she murmured. I turned away form her and starred out the window. "Terrence, I know you here me look at me" she insisted. "I hear you ma" I spoke.

"What I told you Terrence? Huh"? She nagged. "Ian in no damn streets. Ok. You wanna know who shot me, ending my damn manhood? Ending yo chance of every hacking those 'grandkids' you so helplessly want? Do you? Because it wasn't these 'damn streets. It was the person I never assumed to do me wrong ma. My best-friend shot me down, and didn't give a fuck if I made it out dead or alive" I admitted.

She looked stunned. She knew I was talking about Rod. "Why would he do such a thing"? She questioned. I just turned away. I can't answer that. She soon got tired of waiting on an answer an left. Hopefully she wasn't going over to Rod's.


I'm scared of Rod. He's starting to remind me of our father. When his temper got out of control, he'd drink himself into a coma and beat on me and my mom. I was a daddy's girl, but he'd beat me senseless. My mother got it worst. That's why she stayed so sick. Going in and out of depression. I hope killing people isn't the way Rod finds himself closer, because that won't solve a damn thing.

I watched as he scrubbed the blood of Terrence off the floor, and take a sip out of whatever was in his cup. "You shouldn't be drinking right now" I told him. He looked at me and looked away. He huffed loudly and put the sponge in the bucket. "Did you hear Terrence and Janelle last night"? He asked standing directly in my face looking me deep in my eyes reading my thoughts basically.

I couldn't look him in the eyes. "I told you no Rod". I said. He tightened his jaws a bit. "Are you sure"? He asked. "I'm positive". I assisted. "Then why can't you look me in the face"? He asked.


I've been doing my research. I foud my dads Facebook, and it said he live in San Antonio, Texas. That's not to far. I googled him and found his mugshot as well. Drunk driving. I'm being a little cautious, I have a number but I'm scared to call. I'm just going to swallow my pride and dial.


I finally decided to call. I listened to the phone ring until I heard a raspy elderly voice answer. "Hello"? Tue voice answered. "H-hello; is this Richard Mitchell"? I asked. "This is he, may I asked who I'm speaking to"? He asked. "This, this is Janelle Mitchell, I'm, I'm Pamella Mitchell's sister and Patrice Mitchell's daughter" I was soon welcomed by the dial tone. I looked at the phone and hung up. What a coward.

Ok a little short. But hope youu enjoyed it.

Vote & comment

-yanaa 🎀

Plus Size Affection (COMPLETE)Where stories live. Discover now