No school until next year! (trolololol.) swag.
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[Quote #9]
"They ain't even thank Jesus when he died on the cross 'cause your spirit is ungrateful; bitches is so hateful. I remain a staple."
- Nicki Minaj, "Freedom"
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{Four Days Later, Thursday December 18th, 12:12 pm}
(Jas'marieé's P.O.V.)
I sat on the roof of my building, smoking a spliff as it rained down slowly. Today was the day of Sevarion's funeral, and I was trying to contain myself from breaking down. I had went with Prince, who had surprisingly wanted to pay his least bit of respect to him. It was a very bittersweet ceremony, if you ask me. There were moments where we all laughed at the memories of Sevarion stored in old videos, and times where we cried at the fact that he could never come back and be happy again; he had so much on his plate that I didn't even know about. There were times where I saw Prince shed a few tears. Despite his constant beef with Sevarion, deep down, Prince had heart for him.
[Flashback to Funeral]
The eulogies were nearly over until I was called up by Mr. Ridgewood. I tried to decline, but everyone encouraged me to, so I stood up and stood next to Mr. Ridgewood. I examined many of the faces of the people, who had a mix of animosity and sympathy for me. I had took a deep breath before speaking.
Jas'marieé: Hello everyone. I'm Cady--I mean, Jas'marieé Gutierrez, and I was Sevarion's last ex-girlfriend and almost the mother of his first child.
I heard a few gasps from a few of Sevarion's aunts and a silent chatter from the students in school. I decided to ignore it, trying to make the best of what I was to say.
Jas'marieé: Many people around the world know of me as that fast little fourteen-year-old in Mindless Behavior's group. I was sick of judgement and drama from those that didn't know me and those who loved me, so I ran away here. As I hid from the world under the name of Cadyn Ventura, I met Sevarion in our school. Sevarion was dancing through the hallways with his Smokey the Bear slippers before slipping and falling next to my locker. (laughs lightly) I helped him up and we spoke for a while. After a somewhat long period of friendship, we started dating. Sevarion was the most sweetest boys ever when we were together. He had always been the one to hold me down and listen. Whenever you had an issue, he'd listen. Deeper into our relationship, we went in over our heads and had gotten serious after I confessed that I was me. I expected to be single again, but he surprisingly accepted me. After then, I thought we were perfect. He was real. He saw me for me. Things went downhill between us, and I lost my child.
I sighed, feeling hard tears coming down.
Jas'marieé: Honestly, I wanted to hate him, but I couldn't for the simple fact that I was tired of having hate in my heart. Minutes before Sevarion's death, I saw my reflection within him. He died tired. He was tired of having hate in his heart, and I learned where this hate was deriving from. He had lost a lot of people within his lifetime, and it's hard to erase such a scarring. If Sevarion was alive, I believe that he could've made it far. The world sees him as a victim of Broken Heart Syndrome, but we all in here see him as a bro, cousin, diary, son, and to me, an underlying hero. Rest in paradise, Sevarion.
[End Of Flashback]
After my eulogy, I left the ceremony. The pain of seeing him being buried would've killed me inside.
I watched as the rain slowly came to a slow stop as a bright evening-like sun broke from the clouds. I took a long drag before letting it flow from my lips and my nose. I closed my eyes, leaning my head back. I just wanted the day to be over. I put my spliff to my lips and took a longer drag, but held in the smoke.
I heard footsteps approach me, but I didn't even bother to open my eyes until I heard the person's distinctive voice.
?.?.?.?: I thought you quit all of this.
I choked on my smoke and coughed for a while. I looked up and saw that it was Prince.
Jas'marieé: I did, but this is only a phase. I swear.
Prince: Jas'marieé...
Jas'marieé: Look, if you came to judge me, I'm not looking forward to hearing your shit.
Prince: I'm not here to judge you. I just want you back to normal.
Prince took the spliff from me and took a drag. I watched as he let the smoke roll before passing the spliff to me. I took a drag before letting it go.
Jas'marieé: What is normal?
I took another puff and Prince leaned in for smoke exchange. I blew the smoke into his mouth. He inhaled it to its entirety before exhaling. I laughed lightly.
Prince: I watch how you've been, and you're different. You seem to move like a corpse, and I hate to see you like that.
Jas'marieé: It's just a stage.
Prince: Stages can turn into a lifetime.
Jas'marieé: I'm aware of that, but I am not going to change.
Prince: Promise?
Jas'marieé: I promise.
Prince took his last puff of the spliff and blew the smoke in my mouth. He threw the spliff into a puddle of water.
Jas'marieé: I wasn't done with that.
Prince: I know. Weed isn't addictive enough for you.
Jas'marieé: Then what is?
Prince kissed me, and I swore I felt that schoolgirl crush feeling again. We pulled away and stared into one another's eyes. Maybe this bipolar couple thing was just a phase too.
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{Eleven Hours Later, Liberty Avenue, 11:23 pm}
(B-More's P.O.V.)
I watched a video of Sevarion's funeral service a few hours ago while I sipped on the broth of my Hot and Sour soup from the Chinese restaurant. I watched in silence as Sevarion's father, Jerry, bursted into a crying fit; very unmanly of him, but it was all understandable.
Suddenly, the video closed out on my phone and my ringtone sang. I looked at the caller ID, realizing that it was a private number. I instantly knew who was calling me; the triplets. Since their names were strictly withheld for security reasons, I had assigned them fake names; Ashton, Munro, and Delilah.
B-More: Yo!
Ashton: Ay! We're near the building.
B-More: Aight. Don't come here, though.
Munro: Why not?
B-More: 'Cause I said so. Meet me at that boxing gym up the street. Use that trespassing tactic I taught you three and I'll be down there in a few.
Munro: Aight.
B-More: One.
I ended the call, standing up from this dusty ass couch in this abandoned apartment. I slipped on my black and red Jordan Retro 11's before pulling up my black cargo pants and sliding on my North Face jacket.
I jogged down the stairs, and into the brisk winds of mid December. I kept it lowkey, walking through the hollow corner that leads to the gym. I looked around at my surroundings as I placed a hand on the doorknob. There was no authority in sight; only innocent spectators, prostitutes, and crackheads running about and itching for a fix.
I opened the door, cringing as the door slightly creaked. I stepped through and to the boxing rings, where the dim light of those candle lamps illuminated the room with a dreary haze. I saw Munro, Ashton, and Delilah separated by three feet, doing push-ups and stretches. I noticed that three guns sat on a wooden stool, ranging from semi-automatic to revolvers. I knew exactly where they acquired such a variety of guns.
Engrossed in my own thoughts, I didn't hear Munro mention my name.
Munro: Ay! Nigga, I know you can hear me!
I snapped out of my thoughts, looking at the three of them.
B-More: Yeah?
Ashton: What are we learning today? You told us yesterday to bring the guns.
B-More: The ability to shoot a gun in a contorted position.
Ashton: Easy shit. Next.
I cut my eyes at Ashton. I walked over to the wooden stool and picked up the revolver and slammed it in his hand, along with bullets. He raised an eyebrow at me.
B-More: Shoot this gun in a handstand.
I watched as Ashton trembled to the middle of Delilah, Munro, and I to perform my requested action. He loaded his gun and put it on safety, shoving it into the side of his black Adidas track pants. He got into a handstand, and I almost bellowed a laugh as his knees buckled. He maintained his struggling balance as he took the gun out of his pants and took it off of safety. He pulled the trigger, and BAM! A bullet skidded and amazingly managed to ricochet. Delilah and Munro were about to applaud, until we heard a loud cry from Ashton. He was wailing and sprawled across the floor, holding his wrist.
Ashton: Shit! My wrist!
B-More: Not so easy, isn't it?
Delilah: So how are you going to teach us how to do this shit? I'm flexible enough to do all of this. I'm not a punk, unlike some people.
Ashton side-eyed her.
Ashton: Damn, can you please do me a favor and...REMOVE MY DICK FROM YOUR MOUTH?!
Delilah: Not until mine is removed from yours. So until then, introduce your upper lip to your bottom lip and shut the fuck up.
B-More: Enough y'all! Get back to stretching, lifting, and exercising. You only have one day left.
Ashton: Well, tell the bitch to shut the fuck up and stop blowing my dick.
Delilah: It's funny because that dick you speak of is shorter than your hairline, and that shit is miniature.
I smiled in consternation. Feisty girls; I like that shit. Delilah smiled in my direction before returning back to her stretches. I examined her closely as she broke into a series of backflips, handstands, and a chilling monkey jump over wall. She was more seasoned in the game, unlike Ashton and Munro; Delilah had way more experience than she led on. With her moves, she could be a true threat.
For some odd and twisted reason, I had a slight attraction to her. She was very pretty with her light skin, brown eyes, and long dark hair. She had a very fit body, but not to where she looked manly. She wasn't my usual type; I preferred chocolate over caramel, so something about her was alluring enough to catch my eye. Maybe it was her feistiness, tough exterior, and drive that set me off. Part of me hated to feel attracted to a snake.
I peeled off my North Face and picked up a pair of boxing gloves. I punched the nearest punching bag; determination and anticipation filled within my hands with each and every hit. This was about to be a glorious weekend; I am going to trap one of America's most notorious drug dealers and murderers in their own game. This was my moment; and there was no time to waste, nor room for error.
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asdfghjkl. why are Jas and Prince so cute?:3
And is B-More playing the game or what? And who are these three characters B-More's training? (Hint: They are/were in He Plays It and Intensity. Y'all gonna get it.)
Goal: 30 votes, 20+ comments
**Mindless Fact Of The Day**
MB's documentary, All Around The World, comes out March 15th, 2013.
If only I had more friends to go with...