Renae Dreams Trilogy

Chapter 66.)

17-year-old Kingston

"How are you holding up wodie?" Ty asked King as they sat on his porch watching the cars drive by.

"I'm not even sure how I'm supposed to feel... my pops a drug addict... shit wasn't supposed to be dis way," he muttered then shook his head.

After messing up his hand, it became difficult for Micah to do his job. Something he loved; fixing cars. It started off as weed and pain pills, then it turned into coke and alcohol.

"How is Mama Karen taking it?"

"She acts as if things aren't taking a turn for the worst but she barely speaks to him," he admitted.

"Damn man," Ty shook his head.

"You tried asking him to join rehab or something? He was like our black superhero,"

"He ain't going to no drug rehab. He wants to work not just collect these chump ass checks... dis shit just crazy. He went from being my idol to someone I'm trying my hardest not to hate," he admitted.

Ty remained quiet as he played with the basketball.

Micah was a role model for all of them. Ty and Jamel's father was heavy in the streets and got caught slipping last year. He died in the hospital and their mom left them 3 weeks later. They've been staying with King on and off not wanting to be in their family home but when Micah's habit got worse they stopped coming over.

It was really forced because Micah didn't want King hanging around them but it was hard because e grew up with them, they were all he knew and always had his back.

"Don't hate him. I used to try and force myself to hate my pops for being messy in the streets but he was only doing what he could for us. Your pops were used to providing for y'all... drugs and alcohol is his only form of medicating and shutting off his feelings. Just try to help him,"

"Hard to do when we argue every night about tha' same shit," King said then kicked the squirrel that tried to sit on his shoe.

"We're young bulls, you know tha' history of Louisiana... especially tha' five o' four... we gotta get it how we live dawg. Forgive your father, I don't have mine anymore or my mom. You still got yours, enjoy dat shit," Ty told him as Jamel's car pulled up.

"I'll see you tonight, make sure your mom is eating," he added before jogging towards the car.

"Wazzam," Jamel spoke letting the window down.

"Wassgood b, y'all niggas be safe," King replied getting up.

"Always," they replied before pulling off.

Entering the dim house, King closed the door behind him and stared at his father as he slept with the tv on and an empty bottle in his hand.

"Dis is crazy," King mumbled walking over and cut the tv off.

Grabbing the bottle, he sat it on the table then laid his father down. Grabbing the empty plates, the crinkled up playing cards with the coke residue on it and the empty bottle, King headed into the kitchen to throw everything away.