Mixed Personalities

4.0

Alonso

I stretched a bit as  the sun coming in from the window hit my face, all week I was either at school, the shop or the center. I had finally slept past 9 am and it felt good. Usually to get this much sleep I needed to be wasted, exhausted or a mixture of both. But last night I had gotten home from the center early, had no homework and decided to go to bed early- I didn't think that would actually work. I didn't believe Donnie when he said that eventually you'd get use to it- but I did. After a year and some months I got use to the fact- I was a murder, and I was getting away with it. That part made me question police in Chicago a lot but people really died everyday here so I couldn't be too surprised. My biggest regret was going to Atlanta after my father, but truthfully he only made shit worse. Telling him I killed my first body he was happy- ecstatic. I didn't give him any details not wanting to come out to this person I barely wanted to claim I had the same blood ass.

"Shoot the gun Alonso, just shoot the targets" my father said calmly. I looked down at the gun not really wanting to do it, but he claimed he thought I was working with the police- he says he's been checking up on us and was curious to how I found him. Or why I found him. "If you shoot the gun I'll know you ain't fucking with no cops" he responded and I rolled my eyes picking up the gun. I was at my lowest point- I became something I feared and lost someone I cared for a lot- well I didn't deserve to hear him say the words back. But not hearing them made it worse; then he left. That was three months ago and it still wasn't settling right with me- I didn't know what was fucking me up worse, the break up or the fact I'm a murder. That was the even crazier part. I picked up the gun and shot it twice hitting the bulls eye twice then missing the third time on purpose- when he was looking at the target I turned and shot him in the leg then through the gun down as the two men that stood in the empty building with me raised their gun.

"Don't point no fun at my son y'all fucking crazy" my father yelled before one of the men went into another room- the other was mumbling sorrys as if he was really scared of my father but I couldn't blame him— I was terrified of his ass. But shooting him made me feel a lot better. He snapped and the second guy went to move the targets and the first came out with some lady who gasp.

"What the fuck happened babe" she exclaimed and I couldn't help but smack my lips at her words- yeah my mothers been dead awhile but my father claimed he loved her so much- Who this thot?

"My sons a hothead- sit Alonso" he mumbled as the girl tended to where I shot him, he took a sip of his drink and winced at the pain but I hesitantly sat down. "You were worried about your first body why? You just shot three more" he asked and my eyes widened looking back at the targets were being pushed off by now both of the nameless men. Behind the wooden target squares were lifeless bodies who were tried up- I felt my heart skip a beat. "I had to see if you were really a killer, I raised you right- maybe you can really take this shit over"

I looked in the mirror after splashing water on it. I put my toothbrush down after brushing my teeth my eyes staring back at me. I never thought I killed anyone- I killed a total of four people. When Nassiah's said whys hold weight it meant sense- Lock I stopped regretting with time. Shit I'd do it again if he was still alive, those three men I killed in Atlanta didn't deserve it- sure maybe they did to my father but that was his dirty work not mine. After Atlanta I felt like I lost myself more- I had nobody to talk to because let's be real; Donnie was never my friend, and Melanie father was a cop I wasn't that dumb. That left Tas'hania. I practically begged her to talk to Nassiah about me and that lead to them not talking before they left. Everytime I looked at her I felt guilty as shit. She claimed we were still best friends but she missed Nassiah. So I dealt with most of it alone, I mean I had too. Eventually I told my sister but she couldn't understand- she's never done it. What scared me the most is, the street life was never that far away. I had the connects and the ability; even more now it itched to show these niggas I could do it, but I knew I didn't want to end up dead by a gun and a reckless ass reason.