XLVI - Bastard Son

6.7K 481 273
                                    

I sat at the edge of the bed staring at the picture of me and Pops slightly smiling

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

I sat at the edge of the bed staring at the picture of me and Pops slightly smiling. To remembering him teaching me everything in my life and supporting me also from basketball games, football games and even track meets. My life just did a full circle and now it's in shambles without him. Ever since his death and even before, my family members never acknowledged me. My dad taught me how to tolerate it though even though when I wanted to just runaway every change that I can get.

I hopped off the bed walking over to the closet and crouched down moving my clothes out the way and grabbed the worn out Reebok box sitting it on my lap.

"What's this?" I asked as Pops sat on the edge of my bed and opened the shoe box.

He filled the box with hundreds, twenties and fifty-dollar bills tied in rubber bands all in different sizes, honestly more than I can count or see at my young age but I knew it was more than a thousand dollars

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

He filled the box with hundreds, twenties and fifty-dollar bills tied in rubber bands all in different sizes, honestly more than I can count or see at my young age but I knew it was more than a thousand dollars.

He then added a hand gun dropping it into the box along with a dark grey butterfly knife that caught my eye. I knew he wasn't the knife type of guy so this had to be something special. Just from the look of it, it was something rare.

"I already know that one day some shit will happen to me," he took a deep breath exhaling slowly before looking at me, "And these people called family aint gonna help you out, I know that for a fact." He answered, and I looked down at box taking the knife into my hand.

"So this is a will?" I asked.

"I raised a smart ass boy," he chuckled, and for the first time it didn't look forced like I would notice when he was around my grandma or my uncle. This was genuine and real.

My dad always sported a scowl and played the asshole role because people would always take him serious. No one would never cross that line with him because of how he portrayed himself.

He took out a picture showing the beautiful pregnant woman that had a soft smile as she had a christmas hat on and caressed her belly. Just from the almost similar skin tone as me, I knew that was her.

Pusha Man's Girl ✔️Where stories live. Discover now