in a world so cold, with people even colder, how do they survive when they reach the burning pits of hell? they don't.
*
omniscient.
Heaven.
That was the name of the place Cairo thought of as he gazed up into the empty sky. It was a cloudy, misty day with the atmosphere evident of fog. Cairo was was lying on the couch that resided in the middle of his big sister's living room. His eye were peering up at the large ceilings that were installed inside Nefertiti's flat, courtesy to her living on the top floor. His chest rose and fell in that same motion, over and over, as he let out short, and sharp breaths. On the coffee table in front of him were the pills he'd been forced to take, as-well as the half full glass of water. Seroquel was the name of the drug that had calmed him, and put him in a state of severed detachment.Cairo lay there, similar to someone in a vegetative state. Both conscious yet unconscious, and aware yet unbeknownst to his familiar surroundings. And his big sister watched over him from afar, on the single bar stool in her open plan kitchen. Nefertiti gazed at her brother as he breathed the effects of the drug, with his eyes finally shutting after fluttering for several minutes.
He was gone, and out like light.
Lights out to the lost Egyptian city named Cairo, with tears like that of the river Nile that flowed through with purpose. In a town where they resisted to let the people go; Israelites enslaved under the reign of the Pharaoh.
Exodus was what they called it, and exile was what took place both before and after the exaltation.
- down crawled the genocide that wiped my people out.
*
A look of discombobulation was painted across Nasir's pretty face as she read over the text message written across her lock screen.
nearly there.
The number was unknown, and the text message random. Had someone accidentally texted the wrong number? Nearly there, she repeated, trying to fathom the words. It didn't take long for her phone to vibrate once more.
keep your enemies close Nasir.
This message was purposefully sent to her. This wasn't an accidental text. It was forwarded deliberately, with a motive to instil fear within Nasir's poor soul. She wasn't scared though, only confused. She had no enemies, no nemeses, no foes. Guilty by association, was what she was. A friend of an opp is an opp, and Nasir had become that friend. The friend that made alliances with people who held traumatic pasts, and sinful presents, and even darker futures.
You laugh with the opps, you smile with the opps
You gon' cry with the opps, make him fly with the opps
You're filthy, guilty by association
- j hus.You trust too easily, Nasir.
You love too easily, Nasir.
And that's why it hurst so easily, Nasir.
Because
you hurt
so easily,
Nasir.Meeting him was her first mistake.
And if only she could go back in time,
to a place before the genocide
that wiped her people
out.Because everyday
it was a different person,
of the same blood,
screaming
rest in peace to the fallen ones.
But
The fallen ones
only fell
because of you,
and selfishly
you weren't able to pick them up again.- and down crawled the genocide that wiped my people out, when the river nile overflowed with tears of a gangster, because no one shall ever prosper in a lost city; my lost city.
*
In a world of uncertainty, and unspoken words with truths and lies. Day by day, we reap the sins of our forefathers, and our foremothers. And for those who remain with antecedents who lived lives free of wrong-doing, and when wrong-doing came, so did the repentance; for they shall prosper. And those who descend of the enslaved, and colonised. You shall prosper. Yet many choose the journey that lead them back to the shackles that their ancestors fought to be free of. Many take their life of freedom for granted, and this is only realised when they're back to being encaged and enslaved, living a life their ancestors didn't want them to even know of. Long live the ones that died before me, who lived under the reign of a Pharaoh, who forbade the freedom of my ancestors. In a town where they never let my people go, because even til now, their souls remained trapped in the shackles they were forced into.
Lights out to the lost cites.
A genocide that wiped my people out, in soul and in spirit, and always in flesh...
*
"Done." Were the words of the evil man, as he dusted his bloody hands off.
"Good." Were the words of the devil, yet nothing was good in lucifers world.
"Guide me, father." Were the words of the angel, as she began to fall.
A fallen angel is what they prayed for her to become, and oh father, lord; the irony in that.
*
Very, very short.
850 words.
I've tried making long chapters, but they just drag on, and it's just too much waffle. But if you man want a long one, comment or something and I'll give it ya.Questions?
Excuse mistakes.
I hope you guys pick up on the clues, because the next chapter will have way more.I bet you lots are discombobulated. He he.
Vote, comment.
- taimoni.
YOU ARE READING
A Gangster's Cry
Teen FictionTHIS BOOK IS DISCONTINUED & THEREFORE UNFINISHED. Tears to aid their growing pain. - A Gangster's Cry.