Jeremiah.
*Flashback*
I adjusted my shirt, finding my balance back on my own two feet, blood leaking from my eyebrow and my lip. "Niggas is buggin' we gotta get the hell up outta here" Brandon spoke, his thick new York accent heard over the music that was deafening to the ear. The crowd grew blurry as I stumbled my way towards the doors, ready to take off on foot to wherever I could find myself. Mu'fucks shootin up the club, I gotta find my people and bounce.
The cool night air blew through the thin material of my shirt and dried up my sweat in what felt like an instant, I knew I stanked like a mu'fucka right now. Shortys was throwing up, drinks was in the air, and I was sweating like a crackhead. I sat down for a second, the sidewalk twisting with my vision as I sat on a nearby curb of some corner store, gathering myself and tryna stop my head from spinnin. Head in my hands, I rubbed my temples to stop the throbbing that my brain was doin.
It's been four months since Judah died. Four months since I barely graduated high school, four months since the last time I could remember feeling a single emotion besides anger. I turned 18 a few weeks back, got a fake ID from some shorty in the back of a corner store and been drinking and smoking myself numb since. My moms been on my case, tryna tell me I'm actin like my bitch ass pops, comin in and out every few days out the week when I get tired of sleepin on couches and eating sandwiches and shit.
She told me I was "Becoming Frail" cause I ain't been "Eating her cooking" for a few weeks now. Just eating a sandwich from my moms house felt different than eating a sandwich at Brandon house. It's like the bread taste different or some, gotta have the air from my moms house touch it to make it taste just right. She been tryna have conversation after conversation with me since it all happened. I been havin my moments where I lash out on everybody, moments where I just wanna be by myself, not bothered with her or Derek, and days where I stay in my room all day staring at my ceiling, too deep in my own head to find my way out.
Ion know how to process it. Talking about it hurt too bad, but lashing out make me feel like a dickhead, and being by myself therapeutic until I get in my head and get stuck for hours. The whole situation just don't make sense to me, he was aight when he made it home. He was prayin. He was crackin jokes. He was in pain but he was toughin it out. He was alive. We prayed for him and he saw Jesus on the street when he almost bled out and died. Why he ain't live? Why he had to die?
Why didn't the doctors check to make sure he was in perfect condition to come home. How could they not have seen that there was still a puncture and he was still bleeding internally. He looked sick, pale, like he was in pain his last few hours. If I would have stayed with him instead of goin to sleep like a lil bitch he would be here. He'a still be in his room, readin his Bible, excited to tell me about this God who supposedly loved us so much. Why He ain't save my brother? How I'm supposed to think He real if He let a innocent man die for tryna take care of his family?
"Aye man, you aight?" A voice spoke from over me, making my body tense up, ready to leap into action and put hands on whoever I got to. This a rough ass neighborhood, worse than where me and my moms live, I forgot that I gotta be aware of my surroundings fasho cause I'll be damned if somebody catch me lackin. Wrong place at the wrong time exist.
I stood up from the curb, my group of friends spread out near me, "You cool dawg?" Trey spoke again. I shook my head, "Why yall bring me here knowing Mu'fucks be shooting and my brother just died by gettin shot? The fuck wrong with y'all bum ass niggas? Somebody take me the fuck back to my moms, shits lame as hell" I spoke, lashing out on all four niggas that stood nearby, damn near cussing out Mu'fucks who ain't even come with us I was so pissed.
"Yo, I understand yo brother just died but don't take that shit out on me. This my first time comin here, how was I supposed to know you was gon get ho'd and shot at?" Duece hissed unapologetically. "Aye, aye" half of the group spoke as I took a step closer to Duece, "Watch yo fuckin mouth, ain't nobody ho me, he got his licks in but if Mu'fucks really hoe'd me they wouldn't have started tryna shoot. Only person bout to get ho'd is you if you disrespect my mu'fuckin brother again bitch ass nigga" I spat, face to face with him now as if the three niggas holdin me back ain't matter.
I got 18 years and the past 4 months worth of pent up anger and this nigga finna unleash it with a few words, and at this point, when I start, I ain't gon stop. Duece always been a lil bitch in my eyes, only reason I tolerated him is cause I ain't a nigga that be ready to go off about every little thing, but he been bitch made since the moment I met him. Always fuckin with my leftovers, always got some lil slick shit to say like a female. He seem like the type that'll set you up fasho, I always kept him at an arms length, but he tipping closer and closer to the edge when it come to me on this matter.
"Who you gon ho? Do that shit then" He dared. It took all of a few seconds for my fist to connect with his jaw, not once, not twice, but repeatedly. It was as if I blacked out and ain't have no control over what I was doin at that point. It took some random niggas plus my three other friends to get me off that nigga when I started. By the time I was back in my body Duece bitch ass was laid out on the concrete, blood soaked his shirt and his face as nearby people gasped watching the show.
I took a deep breath and by the time I knew it I was in Brandon car, "Nigga what the fuck wrong with you? Is you good? For real. I ain't neva seen you spazz like that before dawg, you needa go talk to ya moms" Brandon spoke as each word went in through one ear and out the other. Brandon been my closest dawg since like fifth grade. He'd just moved from New York to Nevada cause of some family shit. Besides my family, don't nobody know me better than him. He been my rollie for some years now, he know if anybody can calm me, it's my family, specifically, my moms.
I pulled my phone out my pocket, ignoring my friend, a message from Derek read, "You coming home tonight?" I looked at the time on my phone, 2:30Am. From the looks of it, I ain't the only one who been having trouble sleeping since Judah died. Derek has always been one to go to bed at a reasonable time, my mom too, especially with her working. I get to the point where when I try to sleep, all I can see is my brother's dead body laying in his bed, my mom holding his head and screaming for me to call the police and me being stuck. Most times I feel like ion even deserve sleep cause if I would have just stayed up that day instead of taking a nap, I would have been able to know that something was wrong with Judah. He would probably still be alive.
I wouldn't feel so much emptiness, feel helpless knowing my moms and brother is hurtin and ain't nun I can do about it. This shit unfair, I ain't never had to deal with death before, I been feelin like I'm losin my mind silently and can't nobody see that shit. In what felt like no time, Brandon was outside my moms house, "You good or you need me to help you in?" He asked, his eyes locked with the side of my head as I slowly unbuckled my seatbelt, feeling dizzy now that everything was all said and done. I was so pissed at Deuce bitch ass I forgot I was drunk.
I nodded my head slowly, opening up the door. The past few months I been getting better and better at hidin the fact that I been coming in the house crossfaded, my moms would just assume that I was only high, but she don't know I been drinking too, if she did, she would probably put me out cause my pops was a drunk, coming back after a binge every few months when he thought about her and needed somewhere to stay. That's basically what I'm doin now, my moms dealt with that shit once, ion wanna have to have her deal with it again.
I stumbled to the door, standing my body up straight, giving my shoulders a lil shake, and taking a deep breath to compose myself as I pulled my house key out my pocket and fumbled it to the lock, chuckling to myself at the fact that I missed the key hole twice in a row. I gently swung the door open, the living room was dark but the kitchen light over the stove was on, and I looked at my moms room door and could see the light on under her door, the same with Derek.
I figured I'd go check in on Derek first, that was something I did often now. If I wake up in the middle of the night or come home later than normal, I stayed checking on my people to make sure they was good, sometimes to see if they was breathing, with what happened to Judah, I would rather them cuss me out for waking them up by checking on them in the middle of the night than to find them dead the next morning.
I tapped on Derek door and opened it slowly, embracing my little brother with a goofy drunk grin as he sat at his desk, pen in hand, then smiled back, "Drunk ass" he mumbled as I chuckled at him, walking closer and resting my forearm on his head, peeking over his shoulder at what he doing. Derek was only 2 years younger than me, and I wasn't as close to him as he was to me cause I clung to Judah, so Derek clung to me. He knew me better than I knew him, which suck to admit cause he my kid brother, but the past few months I been talking to him more and making more of a effort with him instead of him always initiating conversation. Ion think I ever took into consideration how he prolly felt like our relationship was one sided and that shit hurt me a lil bit, especially after losing Judah.
"How you feelin kid? What you doin?" I asked, patting his back gently as if I ain't just beat the shit out of somebody 15 minutes ago. He shrugged, "Cant sleep, I been writing in my journal to get my feelings out, I write letters to judah when I'm sad, it sound crazy but it helps. Now I'm just writing a list of goals, in my letters, I told judah all my plans like I used to do when he was here. He always told me to write a plan and write my goals down and hang them up so I could see them everyday and be motivated to reach them" he spoke, cracking a soft smile at what I assume was a memory.
The air filled with sorrow, the house just felt different without him here, that's why ion really too much like being here no more. What was once my solace and safe space felt like a prison, a cold empty cell. Everybody was separated, always by they self when we should really be together right now. "Judah money should be available to us soon, you think about doing therapy like mama suggested for all of us? You gon have the money to do it" I spoke.
He leaned back in his chair then turned it to face me as I sat on his bed. He shrugged, "I won't mind giving it a try, I'll try anything once. But if I go and pay an arm and a leg and it don't work, I'll just go back to doing what I'm doing now cause it help me more than I thought it would. The thoughts of writing just popped into my head, it was crazy if I'm honest. It was like it just kept repeating itself to the point where i couldn't stop thinking about it until I did it" he spoke.
I've had moments when I dealt with the same thing, it was like my mind was nagging me to do something and it wasn't until I did it that the nagging went away. "You gonna do therapy?" He asked. I stared up at him, I thought I replied to him but I guess I did in my head as I chuckled to myself, "Nah, ion think talking about somethin gon make it go away. I personally think therapy is a scam but people say it work for them, that's why I asked. You also more in tune with yo emotions than I am so it might work for you, I think you should try it though, ion want you out here feelin like me and doin the things I'm doin to cope, and that's me being honest." I finished.
"Things like what?" He asked, perking up in his seat. I looked at him then shook my head, "You just try and focus on school lil nigga. You a smart ass kid with a good head on your shoulders" I responded with a small smile, making him smile back. "I'm not 12 anymore, you can talk to me you know" he replied folding his arms. I chuckled standin up, "I know. If I need it you gon be the first to know, aight?" He nodded his head as I headed for the door and closed it behind me.
Since Judah been gone I been making it a priority to check in on Derek, it made me wanna hold on to him a lil bit tighter. We was always a small close knit family anyway, and I figured losing Judah was gon make us go either way, even closer, or separate. I could already see us separating, probably cause of me and my lack of communication, but I refused to let that be something that got in the way. I could make sure we all stayed close by making sure they good and dealing with my own shit on my own time.
I tapped on my mother's door then gently pushed it open with my fingertips, she was sitting on the floor in the corner of her room with her hands interlocked. She was finishing up her prayer before her eyes opened and she smiled at me, a few stray tears on her face. The atmosphere in her room was warm but sad. She waved me over and I sat on the floor next to her. Without a single word, she laid a hand on my cheek and I could feel myself instantly sober up. Her hand was warm and soft against my face, making me sigh gently and close my eyes at the feelin.
As of the past four months, and even the six months leading up to Judah dying, me and my mom were butting heads constantly. I went through a phase of thinking that I knew what was best for me, stopped going to school every now and then, was smoking heavy, and was constantly arguing with my moms over the little shit. I always felt like she was on my back and I ain't have room to breathe. I had to realize that it was cause she wanted the best for me and the choices I was makin wasn't as good for me as I thought they was.
One night the arguing with my moms go to the point where Judah had to hem my ass up against the wall cause he thought I was gon try and put my hands on my moms, but that wasn't even the case. Never have been and never will be, that's some shit I knew I could never do. Not to her or any woman, but especially her. I came in the house fried one night and she was on my ass about it being my turn to clean the kitchen and the dishes were getting up there in numbers. She wouldn't stop telling me to do it and instead of just doing it to make her be quiet, I was being rebellious and was gonna do it on my own terms when I felt like it. She raised her voice at me and me, being the disrespectful lil bitch that I was, I raised mine back. Judah wasn't going for it and I knew my moms wouldn't either, but at the time I ain't care. I would have rather Judah jack me up than my moms. She little but she be knockin niggas over.
We started getting better right before judah died and it seem like as soon as he was gone, that wedge was back between us. There wasn't any arguments nor yelling, we were all just so distant cause we would rather deal with our shit alone than to talk about it cause we all hurtin. Judah room was the place where we would all meet up after a long day and just crack jokes together, my moms would play fight with us, and we would just spend a little time together. It didn't seem like much at the time, but when you don't have it anymore, you notice how important the lil shit like that is and what it did for our family dynamic.
I laid my head on my moms lap in the corner of her room as she caressed the side of my head while continually rubbing my arm in an up and down motion, I felt like a kid again. We sat in silence and I could hear my moms mumbling, I figured she was praying over me. It's been a while since she'd done than. For the first time ever, I laid there and listened intently as she prayed cause the moment she started praying in tongues, mixed what what I knew was English, my entire body, from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet, began to heat up with warmth as my mom rocked back and forth, still holding me.
I laid on the floor feeling weightless, the heaviness of my heart felt like it was easing up more and more, and it sound crazy, but I could feel my heart beating without putting my hand on my chest. My ears didn't feel or sound as clogged, and my body thrummed with emotions that had me close to crying, but I fought through them. I don't know why but there was something in me that didn't allow me to cry. I felt like if I did, all my emotions would leak and I wouldn't be able to stop. From Judah dying, to my dad leaving, down to my moms yelling at me when I was 7. All those backed up emotions from so many years ago, emotions that I never really got to express, they would be uncovered, and the thought of that sounded exhausting.
By now, somehow, I was completely sober when just a while ago, I was stumbling over my own two feet and just 40 minutes before that, I beat the shit out of somebody for disrespecting my brother. There's something about a mothers love that can always change the hearts and emotions of a son, and I always knew that shit, she be the only one who can calm me down when I have my spurs of being upset, even when she the one who making me mad. She the realist on my team, I needed to make sure to never forget that shit.
———————
"Jeremiah, get up, mom wants you. The police are here" Derek spoke, shaking me out of my sleep. I stretched my body out, groaning, "The police? The fuck they here for?" I asked, sitting up looking at my brother. "What did you do last night?" Derek questioned, looking down at my knuckles that were red and bruised from beating the shit outta deuce bitch ass last night.
"That ho ass nigga called the police on me?" I mumbled to myself, standing up out of bed, "Jeremiah" I heard my mom call for me. I stuck my hands in my basketball shorts and slid on my house shoes and made my way to the living room out of my bedroom, Derek behind me.
The sunlight from the open windows and screen door of the living room blinded me, "Ma'am?" I asked, making my way towards my mom who stood at the open door, two police officers on the other side of it, immediately looking me up and down, I assume looking for evidence of a fight. I straightened out my back and aligned my shoulders, looking them directly in the eye, they had me fucked up if they thought they was gon come to my moms crib tryna intimidate somebody.
"Do you know a Justin Bibbs?" One officer asked, I could feel my mom look at me, "If he go by deuce , yeah, if not, ion know who y'all talkin bout" I spoke sternly, bass in my voice. "Yes sir, we have a police report from his mother, Aaliyah Bibbs, that you assaulted him last night at around 2:30 am. They've decided not to press charges but to get a restraining order. If you go within 100 feet of Mr. Bibbs you will be arrested for up to 3 months, failure to appear in court will result in up to a year in jail. Any questions?" One officer asked.
My moms looked up at me then to the officer who I kept my eyes locked on, I ain't have no reason to be mad at them cause they was just doin they job, but I already know what's coming next. He fucked up for talkin shit then crying to his moms like a lil bitch when he reap the consequences of said shit talkin. A pussy ass move, just for that, every time I see his ass ima drag him up and down Nevada.
A short interaction later, my mom closed the door and immediately looked up at me, worry but irritation on her brown face, "Ma he was talkin shit about Judah. You know I ain't a violent person but I already don't like him and he was talkin shit about my dead brother. What else was I supposed to do?" I defended myself. My mother slammed my papers on the table, "You ain't a violent person, but you know what makes people violent? Alcohol, Jeremiah. I smelled it on you when you came in last night. You think I'm dumb?" My moms spat. I scratched my head like an idiot, my drunk ass ain't think she was gon smell it? Dumbest shit I ever thought in my life.
"It wasn't even like that. Yeah, I was drinking, but I still ain't a violent person, you know me better than that Ma, but you ain't gotta worry, I won't be around him no more" I replied. My mom sighed then shook her head as if I didn't get the point that she was tryna make, but I didn't bother to ask for more clarification cause she was already pissed the police was at her door, last thing she needed was more attention on the house since Judah died, so I decided on goin back in my room for the rest of the day like she did.