Chapter Twenty Nine
I was discharged later on that day with the nurse reminding me that my body needed rest and blah, blah, blah. I sighed as I took a look at myself in the mirror. I was wearing a long-sleeved romper and some sandals. I straightened my hair then curled it with my curling wand. I just hoped my expensive as Chi Heat Protector was enough to keep my hair from heat damage. I toyed with the cross necklace that laid on my chest, twirling it around my finger. It felt even heavier now that Mario was gone. It still felt so surreal, but the scariest part was how the world just keep moving.
A honk tore me away from my thoughts. Quickly grabbing my messenger, I took the stairs two at a time. I felt like getting to the cab quicker would somehow help me save some money.
"Hey," Chris greeted.
I stood a couple of feet away from the crowd. I wasn't much of a people person. "Hey," I greeted back, brushing a couple of curls from my face. I crossed my arms across my chest and scanned the crowd.
"They're trying to start a fire, but the wind keeps putting it out," he explained when my eyes settled on the crowd. Suddenly, cheering erupted within the crowd.
"We got it guys!" Someone shouted, drawing laughs from a couple of people.
"Okay." Maria clapped her hands together. There was a guitar strapped on her; Mario's guitar. She smiled at the crowd, but I could tell she was worn out. "I want to thank you all for being here. I'm actually shocked my brother had this many friends." She chuckled lightly, but her eyes looked like they could start spilling tears at any minute. Chris stepped away, shooting me an apologetic smile before taking a couple of steps in her direction. He stood by her side and she clutched his arm, throwing a grateful smile in his direction.
"Anyone that knew him knows how much of a genuine person he was. My dad drilled a lot of morals into him so he was honest; a gentleman; playful; and when dad died he was my shoulder. I looked up to him and I will always look up to him because I know he's up there somewhere. He's too much of a kind soul, that's why God wanted him back so quick. But, we're not here to cry, we've done enough of that. Let's play his favorite songs, share our favorite memories-make fun of him even-I'm sure he'll be laughing along with us." She sat down near the fire and a couple of other people followed suit. She looked down at the guitar, adjusting it and running her fingers along its neck.
"He taught me how to play at 10. He said music was like holy water for the soul. I'm not as good as he was though." She frowned at the guitar and tried to find the correct placement for her fingers. "I do sound slightly better than he did though." Everyone laughed. I even managed to chuckle. It was no secret Mario couldn't sing. "We were raised under grey skies, but you'll never hear us complain," she started singing softly, her fingers strumming along. I didn't know the words to the song, but I recognized it. It was one of Mario's favorites because it reminded him of his dad. I leaned against the tree and hummed along.
"Oh, when you left us you didn't really go I know you're watching me from my head to my toes and I will not go without. I won't walk without you no. And truth be told everybody knows you put the food on my plate and you gave me my clothes, and I will not go without. I won't walk without you no."
A couple of people sang along, those that didn't know the words just snapped and rocked from side to side. The fire crackled in the background as the wind rustled the leaves. When she was done, she played for anyone that wanted to sing a song they knew he loved. Surprisingly, a lot of people volunteered. They sang loud and off key, with big smiles on their faces.
I could definitely see Mario hanging out and being a complete goofball with them. When everyone ran out of songs to sing, they started sharing memories and saying final words and goodbyes.
"I've already said my goodbyes, and Mario and I were really close, so there's nothing I regret not having the chance to tell him, but for the sake of tonight I'll share this: who I am today is a turtle-a beautiful strong one guys!" She defended when some people laughed. She rolled her eyes with a smile and continued, "Anyways, who I am today is a turtle that outgrew the shell I had crawled into after my dad's death. Mario installed baby monitors in our rooms and he'd come rushing in at the slightest whimper. Like, they were some hi def ass monitors guys, he heard everything. I was scared to cough because he'd wake up and come rushing into my room.
He was my shoulder even though he needed a shoulder too. He made me want to be as strong as he was. I was able to become the person I am today because of who he was and truthfully, I'm scared to continue on without him, but I know that's not what he'd want."
The crowd nodded in agreement. Some people sent reassuring smiles in her direction while others patted her on the back. "You got it, Becky!" Someone screamed from the crowd.
"I'm Hispanic dummy," she responded after laughing.
"You got these niggas fooled, but I see through that shit." My head snapped in the direction of Trey's voice. "You think you slick. You bet I couldn't fuck Vicki, which I did, then yo ass gon go to Cuba with Tupac. I want my damn money. Oh, and we may be cool and all, but you ain't gotta visit me. Don't be messin' with my pots in the kitchen and don't be turnin' off my lights either. I know how yo goofy ass is. You probably in heaven cuttin' the fuck up."
I shook my head. Trey was the only person that wouldn't think twice before saying something like that.
That's yo damn friend, I thought. Matter fact, I don't even know how the hell you guys became friends. I'm glad you guys did though, because that's how I met you. Wait, I don't even know if I'm glad I met you, to be honest. I'm a fucking mess.
I was about to run a hand through my hair when I remembered just how long it took me to get those damned curls, so I started wringing my hands instead. There were times when Trey pointed out I was doing that and I wasn't aware of it, but I was aware of it then. It just brought me comfort.
I'm a fucking mess and the only way I know how to move on from this is by blocking you out, but I don't want to. And that damn voicemail, I groaned internally. You don't listen Mario. Now that's all people hear when they call you. You know, it's not even the memories we actually shared that hurt the most, but the ones I created for us. Memories I created of a future with you. Markarisha was starting to grow on me a little. I'll say sorry now for the path I'm about to go on. And I can't genuinely say I'll see you in heaven one day because I honestly don't know what I believe in and where I'll end up. I just really miss you. It's not fair. I-
"Risha?"
"Huh?" I looked up confused. All eyes were on me and I wasn't quite sure why. "Um..."
"It's your turn," Maria said with a smile.
"I..." My turn? I didn't volunteer to go. I said everything in my head already. Even if there was more to say, I definitely wouldn't have said it in front of everyone. "I, um, miss you." I played with the hem of my romper, avoiding everyone's gaze. I was met with silence. Well damn. I glanced up shyly. I was suddenly feeling out of place. I met Trey's curious eyes briefly before bringing my attention to Maria, silently begging her to move on, but she completely misunderstood.
Instead, she stood up and walked towards me. "It's ok Karisha, take your time." Her eyes darted to the necklace that hung around my neck and her smile broadened. "We're all family here and trust me, I know it's hard, but the idea is to get everything off your chest and let the wind carry it to him."
I peeked around her shoulder and noticed that eyes were still on us.
"I know what it's like to lose someone you love."
"I don't love him," I shot back quickly. I didn't even know why I said that. I was panicked and it was like a reflex reaction. Like denying it would take some of the pressure away, but the look on her face proved that was a bad idea.
"Risha, it's ok," she said in a hushed tones, but her eyes said, 'get your act together, you're embarrassing us.'
"I didn't love him," I repeated. Oh well, I already said it. I might as well stick to it.
Her eyes narrowed as they filled with tears. "You're lying. He would've never given you that necklace if he didn't think you loved him," her voice was small and disbelief etched itself into her features.
"Well maybe he's a bad judge of-"
Her palm connected with my face and made a loud smacking sound that pierced through the silence. I can't lie, it hurt like hell. My face throbbed painfully, but I'd never let that show in my expression. "Stop! Then why the hell are you here? And wearing his damn necklace. Daddy's necklace!" She spat. "You don't deserve it. Her dainty hand reached up to grab the necklace, but I quickly wrapped my hand across her wrist and yanked it back down. The hell she thought this was, ATL? She wasn't about to T.I me.
"You try to touch my fucking necklace again and you lose that arm."
"Let me go!" She tried to pull away, but I tightened my grip on her, causing her to hiss in pain. I let her arm go a second later and left the scene.
"Bitch!" She yelled at my retreating figure. I shrugged. It felt better being a bitch than it did being broken.
When I returned home, I expected all of the lights to be out, but the one in Michael's room was still on. I peeked into his room and found him sitting up in his bed, his small frame turned towards the window as he stared out into the night.
"Didn't Jordan out you to bed?" I asked, letting myself in.
He shrugged, but didn't turn around to face me. I hadn't seen him since I'd been admitted to the hospital. I wasn't there for him when they broke the news to him, nor was I there for im at the funeral.
"What's wrong Mikey?" I sat on the bed and wrapped my arms around him. He leaned back into me and sighed. He suddenly found his Pikachu pajamas more interesting than my question. "Michael?"
"I wanted to be strong like you and not sleep."
"That wasn't a show of strength Mike, and it also wasn't smart. I ended up in the hospital for three days. Now, tell me what's bugging you or I'm gonna let the tickle fingers loose."
He sighed again, that time he laid his entire body down and stared up at me with those big hazel eyes. "I'm just scared," he replied softly.
"Scared of what?"
"To sleep. Mommy said Mario turned to an angel when he was sleeping. I don't want to turn into an angel."
"Mike," I raked my fingers through his hair, "we turn into angels when God is ready for us. Not sleeping won't stop us from turning into angels," I explained.
"So you and mommy are gonna turn into angels?"
"One day, yeah."
"And leave me?" He asked with sad eyes.
"Honestly, I don't know, but you won't be alone. When we lose one person, another one is placed into our lives, but it's nothing to be afraid of. How do we start off?"
"As fish in mommy's belly," he answered.
"Fish swimming in mommy's belly, then we become angels that can fly. That's a beautiful thing, so don't be sad for people that become angel, and don't be afraid of becoming one. One day we'll all be flying together. Ok?"
He nodded.
"Can I turn the light off?"
He nodded. "Can you sleep here?" He asked as I was about to exit his room.
"Sure."
***
I watched with squinted eyes as the bullet left the gun in my hands, ripping through the air and making its way through the ear on the target practice sheet. I fired again, with a slightly different stance, but the same goal in mind. I fired three more times. Each time, there was something specific I changed. I wanted to see if I could hit the same spot no matter what. I wanted my muscles to commit every position to memory so that it became second nature.
"Woah, slow down there killer," Trey joked as he strolled into the backyard. I paid him no mind as I reloaded the gun and fired at the same spot. "Gotta send out a PSA to all the street niggas and let 'em know they gotta buy bullet proof earmuffs 'cause Risha is on the fuckin' loose."
I sighed and shot a bullet through the target aheet's head to shut him up, then proceeded to shoot through the heart and both lungs for good measure.
"What the fuck?" The shock in his voice was clear as day. It wasn't shocking though. For a month, all I did was breathe, eat, and sleep guns. I read articles on shooting techniques, watched videos, and spent my mornings doing target practice.
"When the fuck?" I heard the grass bending and breaking under his weight as he continued walking towards me. "Is that my fuckin' gun?"
I looked down at the gun I held between my gloved hands before replying, "You should really hide your weapons better."
"They were under a floor board. A floor board that's behind a movable wall. A movable wall whose key I put in a fake outlet."
I shrugged and shot at my target again, that time my bullet pierced through its throat.
"It's easy to shoot when yo target ain't movin'," he said over my shoulder.
The gunshot that rang in my ear froze my entire body. A feeling of panic and sudden dread filled my body as my heart raced and my hands shook.
"Shit, shit, shit," I muttered as I rushed inside the house.
I leaned against the door frame for support as a wave of dizziness hit me. "Fuck," I groaned as my heart clenched painfully in my chest. Tears blurred my vision and I had no idea why I was feeling the way I was. It was like my body was moving on its own as my mind traveled elsewhere.
I gasped and dropped to my knees, a small whimper escaping my lips as I took Mario in. He was lying down on the floor with his hands clenching his side. He opened his mouth to say something, then quickly closed it as his face contorted in pain. I crawled over to him quickly, ignoring the rough carpet that was digging into my knees.
"No, no, no, no." The tears were starting to blur my vision, so I swiped at them angrily.
"Mario," I croaked when I reached him.
"Risha, go." His clenched teeth, shallow breathing, tightly shut eyes, the pain he was in was evident. Yet, instead of worrying about himself, he was worried about me.
"No," my voice cracked. The fear and desperation that weighed on it proved to be too heavy. "No!" My chest heaved up and down as my eyes widened and darted around the room in a crazed manner. I heard footsteps.
They knew I was here. They were coming back to finish Mario off and kill me along with him. Not today! I turned around and raised the shaky hands that I realized still held a gun.
"Stop or I shoot!" I screamed. If my gun didn't kill him, I was sure my venomous stare would. His eyes widened. Damn pigs. It was just like them to play innocent, even when standing in a crime scene that they'd created.
"Listen, put the damn gun down." His eyebrows knitted together when he heard the click of my safety being removed. Within a split second he had a gun pointed in my direction. "Liste, I don't know what the fuck is goin' on, but if I gotta choose between you or me, I'm gon' choose me. So please-"
"Shut the fuck up! You don't get to choose. You made your choice when you shot him." I motioned my head in Mario's direction, but didn't dare take my eyes off of him. Jis eyes went behind me as the corners of his lips pulled down.
"Listen," he started with a shaky breath, "before I do something I'm gon' regret for the rest of my life. Take a deep ass breath and another look around. Whatever you're seeing is not real. It may feel real, but it's not. Take a deep breath and look around. You remember this place right? The first time I brought you here was to teach you all I knew about guns. You damn near killed me once when I called yo ass poison. That's probably not the best thing to mention at the moment though..." He trailed off.
He slowly put the gun down and raised his hand in a non threatening manner. "Look, I'm a safe person. I don't know what you're seeing, but you're safe. Risha, you're safe. It's me, Trey. There's no one else here but you and me. You're safe," he kept repeating that sentence over and over again for what felt like forever.
I looked around in confusion. There was no one else here. I drew my eyes back to him, and the cop I thought I saw was no longer before me. I furrowed my brows and glanced around once more, then back at the gun I had pointed at Trey. I quickly put it down, then stared up at him with wide eyes.
He sighed in relief and rubbed a hand down his face. "What the fuck was that?" He asked slowly, his hand still on his face.
My brows were still furrowed. I was beyond confused and filled with an unwanted sadness. I still felt unsafe. I just wanted to go lock myself up in a place where nothing could hurt me.
"Risha."
"I don't know," I replied. The panic from earlier seeping back into my voice.
"What did you see? Hear? Feel?"
"I heard gunshot and then I just, I just..." My eyes darted around the room frantically.
"You can't handle the sound of a gunshot, but you think you can do what you planning on doing! The gunshot was from me. I was trying to show you how easy it was to hit a still target. Why the hell did my gunshot do that when you're here every damn day shooting?"
"I don't know! I don't have the damn answers ok. I knew I was shooting a gun so the sound didn't do anything from me. Plus, my silencer was on. You, on the other hand, didn't even warn me you were going to shoot. You just shocked me ok? That's all."
"I shocked you and that's all?" He asked incredulously, his lips curving into a humorless smile. "You spaced the fuck out, then jetted into the house, talking to yourself and aiming MY gun at me. You didn't even realize it was me. That's not shock, that's a fucking flashback dumbass!"
"It wasn't a flashback, it just reminded me of all the dreams I've been having lately about Mario." I took a calming breath before continuing. "It was just a real life ream, that's all. A really vivid one." I laughed dryly. "They're just so detailed. It's like I was actually there that day he died."
He scoffed. "Like you were there huh?"
I shot a glare in his direction. What the hell was up with the attitude he was giving me. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
"Like you were there?" He repeated, ignoring my question. "You were there. I found you here that day, covered in blood and shirtless. He died in your arms."
"Fuck you Trey."
"Yeah, fuck me for trynna bring yo delusional ass back to reality. What the fuck Risha? When was the last time you saw yo therapist?"
"I don't need to see my therapist. I'm fine," I replied through gritted teeth.
He snorted, "You're ass fine as Edgar Allen Poe books are. You need to go to yo fuckin' therapist. That's what Mario would want."
"Dead men don't want," I reminded him dryly. I stood up because my legs were starting to fall asleep in the position I was in.
"Go to your therapist," he growled.
"No," I said, standing my ground.
"Go to your therapist."
"Why the hell you wanna play savior so bad? Stop trying to save me, I don't need it."
"Save you?" He took a couple of menacing steps, closing the distance between us. "How the fuck would I save you when I don't even know how? Where the fuck would I start, huh Risha?"
"No fucking where. Try starting there Trey."
His nose flared as his eyes turned to slits. All I need now was a red flag to wave in front of him. His chest heaved as his hands balled into fists. I could feel the anger radiating off of him, but I refused to back down.
"Fuck!" He snapped, then turned away from me. His shoulders rose and fell quickly as he tried to calm himself. "You make me feel like that little boy again, who watched his sister self destruct and couldn't do shit about it." He said in a softer, broken voice.
We stood frozen after that. I didn't know how much time went by, or if time went by at all. I was taken aback by his words and didn't know how to respond. I would've never thought he would say something like that. I approached him hesitantly and wrapped my arms around him. He didn't move or acknowledge what I was doing. He took another slow breath, then stepped away from me.
"Fuck this shit," he muttered before walking out and leaving me even more confused than before.
I stayed there for hours waiting for him to come back, if he even decided to come back. I didn't want him to feel the way he did, but there was nothing I could do about it. If I knew I was going to be there for as long as I was, I would've taken my phone with me. Being alone with nothing but my thoughts wasn't something I'd choose to do.
I glanced up when the door opened and shut. "Hey," I greeted him.
He froze for a second before continuing. "Why are you still here?" He asked.
"I was waiting on you,"
"And if I didn't come back?'
I shrugged. He made his way over and took a seat on the floor beside me.
"Why do you always compare me to them?" I decided to get straight to the point rather than beat around the bush.
He shrugged, then massaged his forehead with his index, middle, and ring finger, while sighing. "I don't know man. Some part of my brain is trynna fill the hole they left with you. You think I want to? 'Cause I don't. It's doing nothing for me but bringing up these buried feelings. I feel like I'm watching you destroy yourself. I watched you have a flashback. You know how scary that is for the viewer? Chris' pops had them shits all the time when he came back. Damn near killed Chris once with his bare hands. That's not normal, Risha. That's a sign of PTSD and what's crazier is you think you're ok."
"If you're worried about me killing myself, I won't. I'm far from suicidal."
He laughed bitterly, "We all start far from suicidal, then we're pushed there."
"How come you never mention your other sister? I'm sure you guys were close too." I had to move the conversation away from me because Trey and I were never going to see eye to eye.
"'Cause I'm a coward. I didn't go to her funeral and I never once visited her grave 'cause I'm a coward." I opened my mouth to say something, but closed it abruptly. I didn't know what to say because I was confused by his response.
"When Genesis died, I lost control of myself. I was already in the streets, but I was reckless ass fuck after. Robbin' niggas' traps just because; startin' shit with niggas that looked at me the wrong damn way; fuckin' crazy ass niggas' bitches; sellin' on other niggas' blocks. You name it, I was doin' it. Niggas was getting' tired of me. Prices were being put on my head and shit. Chris was fuckin' pissed at me. I was just a dumb ass kid that didn't know how to deal with his emotions.
One day, these niggas came by the house waitin' for me, but I never showed up 'cause Chris made me lay low at his place until everything died down. Amari went out to get the mail-even though I told her ass to always stay inside when I'm not home-and they opened fire on her. She had ten bullets in her." He paused for a minute. "Those bullets were for me. She paid for my recklessness. She could've been some shit. Her happy go lucky ass wanted to save the world. Seeing homeless people always made her cry, so she used to say, 'I'm gonna help them all Trey bear.' I almost beat her ass one day. She took all the damn money out of my shoe box to feed and give them some essential items. Her dumb ass." He chuckled.
I looked away from him and swallowed the lump in my throat. I could feel the tears welling in my eyes and I needed to keep my emotions tucked neatly in the box I made for them.
"So I didn't go to her funeral 'cause I was ashamed and scared and disgusted with myself. I couldn't face her. I still can't face her. I fell into depression soon afterwards and wouldn't do shit. You don't know yet what it feels like to break."
"I've already broken."
"No, your body broke. You took away what it needed so it broke. I'm talking about mental and emotional breaking. I wanted to just die. That's why Chris will forever be my brother 'cause he made it his sole purpose to help me out of that shit. He slapped me everyday that first month. Then he realized that shit wasn't working and tried every other approach. He had his mom buy him all these books on depression and therapy. That nigga was at my house everyday trying out a new technique he read up on. So when depression finally got its hand on him, I made it my sole purpose to get him out of that shit."
"Chris was depressed?" I asked in shock.
"Everybody has their demons. Its hard dealing with a dad that's a military vet with PTSD and a drug addiction. I don't know how he did it."
"I feel like I know nothing about him sometimes," I admitted.
"That nigga is an open book, you ask and he tells."
"Well, some people don't like asking."
"Then those people shouldn't complain about not knowing. If you don't take what you're goin' through serious, you'll find yourself walking down that path to depression. Trust me, it's not somewhere you wanna be. That's why I joke so much. I gotta make everything light because I can't let myself go back there. I swear if I keep dealing with you I'm gon start smokin' cigs 'cause shit." He shook his head and sighed.
"Shut up, you love me Trey bear," I teased.
"Out of everything I said, Trey bear was probably all you heard." He shook his head. "How the fuck did you make it this far in life?"
Trey called someone to give us both rides home when we wrapped up our conversation. I was glad he could get everything off of his chest, but his sadness that he was able to release became my sadness. Just looking and listening to him, you'd have never imagined what thoughts and memories resided in the recesses of his mind. I slowly crept inside because I wasn't supposed to be gone as long as I was. Michael was still in the living room watching... you guessed it! Pokemon. I sat behind the couch, not wanting to distract him. I smiled to myself as he said all the lines and made all the Pokemon sounds. When I found myself drowning in everything around me, he'd always be the one thing that could pull me up.
Risha and Trey always fighting!
What do you guys think is going on with her? Everyone deals with trauma and stress differently.