Nevaeh's Hope

by Thereasa Black

  In a way I was happy that my son died. I knew that he was safe from this rigged system, protected from the pain of this world. I saw him though, in my dreams, in the darkness. When it came for me, I could sometimes hear my sons cry. I don’t know how I recognized it since I had never heard it, but somehow, I knew it was him.

  The police came to the house a little over a week after my son’s death and told me that they had identified the shooter. They had found the gun used on the body of a boy they found shot to death in West Philly. The smirked and said, “An eye for an eye I guess.”

  I looked at them and replied sadly, “That logic, gentlemen, is the reason that so many kids in this city will never see their twenty-first birthday.” I closed the door softly and fell to the ground crying. Knowing that he was dead didn’t bring me any peace. My child would still never see the light of day, he would never smile up at me, or have a first kiss. Dr. King was right, an eye for an eye does leave everybody blind. Blind to the fact that more death doesn’t bring about less death.

  Junior

  Day after day I watched the never-ending line of people outside of Breeze’s house. The young, the old, the fathers, and even pregnant mothers, they were all loyal customers. My perspective had changed since I found out that my mom was a consumer of the drug that I helped to distribute to the masses. I could now see how dealing wasn’t a victimless crime. The addicts weren’t the victims of my actions, they were victims of society. The people hurt by drugs were the families, but I was stuck now, I couldn’t just leave. I begged the guys not to sell to pregnant women. Each time I did they would ask the same question, “Is her money worth less than everyone else’s?”

  “No,” I would reply.

  “Then why would I turn her away?”

  Shawn would even add in sometimes that they were getting two for the price of one. He said, “Once an addict always an addict.” His theory was that if the baby was born addicted to drugs that when he or she grew up, they also had the potential of becoming a customer.

  Being pregnant didn’t make them treat the woman any differently than the others. They were all led up the stairs into the dark room where they got their second payment. These men were sick, they were monsters. The high esteem which I held them in when they took me under their wings was gone. How could I have been so blind?

  Earlier today I went over and saw my mom being led up the steps. I begged them not to take her up, not to give her what she came to purchase. “Oh, now you care? Last time you saw her here you were shoving your,” before he could finish his sentence I ran out of the door.

  The memories came rushing back to me. The day that Nevaeh was shot, she was the reason that I was running home. I thought that I had seen a ghost and I guess that I had. She was my mom, but a ghost of the woman that she used to be. But my mom, my mom, how could I?

  Sasha

  I heard the front door slam and then Junior yelling for Nevaeh. I went into the kitchen to see what was going on. When I got there, he and Nevaeh were talking quietly. Junior had a river of sweat flowing down his face. He glanced up when I walked in to the room, Nevaeh turned and told me to go back to my room. I hesitated and then obeyed. They always kept me out of things. Me and Junior were the same age, but he was always treated like he was older. I was one year from being a teenager, when was everyone going to start treating me like it?

  Marsha

  I never wanted him to see me like that, I wanted to leave with him. To run out of their house and never look back, but a stronger desire was holding me there. I wanted to be there for Junior, but I needed to be here for me. At the point when I saw Junior at Breeze’s I had already gone four days without using. I figured out a way to keep the thoughts away. I just didn’t go home. When I didn’t see them, I thought about the pain less. Then I’d see a young woman walking down the street with her baby and it all came back. That’s not what drove me back this time.

  When I stayed away I needed a place to lay my head. I found an abandoned house a few blocks away from my place that wasn’t too crowded. There were usually only homeless people that had gotten stranded when the city shut down the mental institution. Today there was a young woman there in her twenties. As I sat upright against the rotting wood, I heard her tell a man that he could have her daughter for the night for twenty dollars. I looked at her with the pain of a broken life in my eyes and started to cry. She looked at the ground after meeting my eyes and started scratching at the holes that decorated the veins in her arms.

  When I closed my eyes in an attempt to hold in the tears, I saw Nevaeh’s face. Was that what I did? Did I trade my daughter for the moments of satisfaction that came with companionship? The sadness bubbled over within me and I couldn’t go another minute without it. I went to Breeze’s. If only Junior could understand, it was them that kept me chained to this house, them who made me come back time and time again, them who made me need to forget.

  Neveah

  “I saw her!” Junior pushed out between his sobs. “I didn’t know it was her at first. I didn’t know Nevaeh or I never would have… I tried to stop them, they just wouldn’t.”

  I didn’t understand what he was talking about. How could I? He wasn’t really saying anything. Sasha walked into the kitchen being nosy as usual, “Go back into your room Sash.”

  “But…”

  “Now!”

  Once she was gone, I was able to calm Junior down and he finally told me about what he had done in the months that he was gone and what he had saw today. I convinced him that he had to get them to stop selling to her. He was the only one that could, he was there friend. I knew that he had tried before, but with a little persuasion, anyone’s mind could be changed. If they refused to give our mom drugs, maybe she would come back to us. She could be our mom again. Finally, God was cutting us a break.

  Junior

  Nevaeh told me that I could save her, this was my chance. I figured that since I almost killed her twice that this was how I could redeem myself. I promised that I would protect them all and bringing back my mom from this dark path that she had wondered down would do that. My sister came with me to Breeze’s and waited outside. I looked at the all of the sad and destitute faces as I walked to the front door. I saw a familiar look in their eyes as I climbed the stairs and went inside.

  I found Breeze in the kitchen sitting at the table testing the product. He offered me some, I declined. I told him that we needed to talk about my mom.

  The situation escalated quickly and before I could think clearly, my gun was pointed at Breeze’s face. This was the only way that I could protect them. They would all know that I wasn’t just a kid playing around, that what I said needed to be obeyed. Everyone would understand that this was the only way. Breeze froze in his chair and told me to put the gun down. I didn’t know what to do. This wasn’t me, I didn’t do things like this, I couldn’t do this. I knew that Nevaeh needed me to kill him, she didn’t say it but I knew that’s what she wanted. I couldn’t let her down, I couldn’t let my mom down.

  My finger was on the trigger, I closed my eyes, and pulled it. My heart trying escape my chest I opened my eyes and saw that nothing had happened. Breeze still stood motionless in front of me and I heard no blast of a gun. The safety. God had given me a second opportunity to think on what I was doing. He gave me a chance to take it back and I did. I put the gun away and ran out of the house. I couldn’t be the monster that they wanted me to be. Enough life had already been lost on my account. No more.

  Sasha

  Nevaeh told me to stay in the house when she and Junior walked out. They seemed excited, I wanted to know what was going on. So, when they left, I followed them. I tried to stay far away so that they would recognize my face if they turned around. The path that they took was unfamiliar to me, but Junior sure knew where he was going. He was leading the way and Nevaeh trailed behind him. They stopped in front of a rundown house with a long line of people outside. Each person went in one by one as if they were waiting in lin
e at a grocery store, but Junior jumped in front of everybody while Nevaeh stayed out on the sidewalk across from the house. The person at the door appeared to recognize him and didn’t make an attempt to stop him.

  My sister looked anxious as she paced the sidewalk. Suddenly the door burst open and Junior came sprinting out shouting for Nevaeh to run and she did. As Junior reached the sidewalk where Nevaeh had been waiting, a big man in a white tee shirt and black jeans came to the door screaming. “What did I tell you before Junior?” Junior didn’t look back, he just kept running. “Don’t pull out a gun unless you goin’ to use it!” he exclaimed. Then he pulled something up from his side.

  Marsha

  I always tried to use at least a little before they took their turns with me. It lessened the pain. This time they made me wait until after. When I got it after I had to use even more to forget.

  I came around and the sun was setting. It was so beautiful. All I could see were the oranges, reds, and yellows of God’s daily masterpiece. When my gaze came down from the heavens, I saw the hell that I was trying to escape and then my eyes focused in to see the first heaven that I had been kicked out of, my mom’s house. I didn’t know how long I had been sitting there or how I even got there. The only thing that I knew was that as I gazed at the house, I felt the pings of betrayal all over again. It was as if I was sixteen again and my mom had just turned her back on me. Fifteen years ago, I sat in this very place with this same sensation. Even the words that crossed my mind were echoed, “Et tu Brute?”

  Nevaeh

  Junior came out of the house and rushed towards me, his face painted with fear. He screamed for me to run and I did as he followed behind me. I heard someone call out, “What did I tell you before Junior?” I glanced back at the door of the old house and saw a heavy-set man with a white t-shirt stepping out of the front door. He continued, “Don’t pull out a gun unless you goin’ use it!”

  A gun? What was he talking about? I stopped in my tracks when I heard the familiar sound of a gun bursting from behind. I turned to see Junior’s yellow shirt bring infiltrated by a copper red. I couldn’t move. I trebled in disbelief as my vision blurred from the tears accumulating in my eyes. A second shot sang out, then a third.

  I fell to my knees as Junior’s head exploded in front of my eyes. The line of customers at the house scattered and I was left standing alone, frozen in disbelief. I heard someone screeching behind me and I watched helplessly as Sasha ran towards my brother’s lifeless body.

  The sun set behind us, taking the last ray of light from our family with it.

  Chapter IV

  Lying in Wait

  Sasha

  Some days I just sit for hours staring at the door, waiting for Junior to walk in. I zone out and start replaying scenarios in my head that would have saved my other half. All of my versions end with him walking through the door and smiling as I welcome him home. At the end, I always see what actually happened.

  The look on his face, I knew something was wrong. He should have been running, why would he walk away from a man like that? His body just went limp on the ground. There was no last chance to say goodbye, no telling him one more time that I loved him, he was just gone. I ran to him and turned him over. I’ll never get that image out of my mind. His face was gone, it was replaced by a hole the size of a baseball. Blood was oozing from the wound and his brain was painting the sidewalk. It was the most horrifying thing that I had ever seen, but I couldn’t look away. Seconds before, this was the familiar face that could always comfort me, now he was the image that would come to me in the dark. For a while, I couldn’t blink without seeing what was left of his face behind my eyelids.

  Nevaeh eventually covered his face with her jacket. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably. She tried to pull me away from Junior but once she picked me up from the ground she didn’t move. We both cried until the police arrived and didn’t leave until Junior was taken away in a black bag.

  I still go back there sometimes. I feel like I’m closer to him since that was where his soul left him.

  Nevaeh and I made our way back that night to a dark, empty home. I sat on the couch staring at the door. That’s the day that this habit began. I thought that maybe I had a nightmare and Junior was going to walk in at any moment, but he never did.

  It wasn’t until two days later that we were first able to tell my mom. She never came home and we didn’t know what to do. Nevaeh decided that we needed to go to Mama’s so that something could be done about Junior’s funeral. When we got to her house, we saw my mom sitting on a stoop across the street from her mom’s house, just rocking back and forth. She didn’t even know what had happened.

  I need to break this habit. A year of staring at an unmoving door hasn’t brought back what that man took away from me. No matter how many times I relive the moment in my mind, my alternate world will never become reality. Maybe it’s time that I let it go.

  Marsha

  I can’t bear to go home anymore. Nevaeh’s eyes are always full of hate when she looks at me and Sasha’s are full of longing. She expects too much from me. I can’t be the mother that she wants me to be anymore. That person died the day that I allowed that ass hole to rape my baby girl. Those four walls and a roof is now an ever-present reminder of all that I’ve lost, all whom I have failed, and how far I have fallen. I was like Sasha once, looking forward to what was to 'come, knowing that if I just made it to tomorrow, that everything would be alright. After giving birth to Nevaeh and losing Max to prison, the light in my eyes dimmed and I realized that things would never change. For generations, my family was poor, my friends’ families were poor, and everyone was stagnant in their misery, as if their feet were nailed to the ground. My neighborhood was populated by single mom’s working themselves to their breaking point in order to keep clothes on the backs of their children and I had foolishly joined their ranks. Why did I believe that my story would end happier than theirs?

  Every day I found a different place to sulk, today that place was the cemetery. My angel had become an angel and I couldn’t afford to give him a tombstone. He was left with a piece of plastic erected in the dirt to mark his final resting place. The dates reminded me that he died right before his eleventh birthday.

  I was sitting on the steps outside of my mom’s place when I found out. I didn’t even cry when Nevaeh told me. I couldn’t, I had nothing left to give. When I didn’t respond to the news Nevaeh snapped. She told me exactly why Junior had gone to Breeze’s that day. Whoever started that saying the truth will set you free was a fool. There’s a reason why the caged bird sings. It’s because she’s ignorant to the limitations of the cage, and I wish Nevaeh had let me remain that way.

  Nevaeh

  The guy who killed my baby is dead. He was fourteen, but he had fourteen more years then my baby would ever have. But maybe he saved him. Maybe it’s better that my son never had to experience the feeling of having joy ripped from his soul. I don’t think I’m happier now that that boy is dead. He wasn’t trying to kill my child and the fact that he was trying to kill someone doesn’t move me one way or the other. I do want Breeze dead though. I don’t want him to be able to laugh, to love, to breath, he doesn’t deserve life. He took Junior purposely. He was a grown man that made the decision to take the life of a ten-year-old. There is no forgiving that. While Breeze’s death won’t bring Junior back, it will allow him to experience the death sentence that he gave my little brother without a second thought. Why should he live each day after he took the liberty to stop my brother’s heart? The way I see it, it should be an eye for eye. Who cares if the whole world ends up blind?

  Every time I come home, I see Sasha sitting, staring at the door with, what can only be described as, hope in her eyes. It’s disgusting. How can she be so full of hope? Why is she so special that the realities of our lives don’t touch her? I just want to tell her that Junior’s not coming back, that our mom has chosen drugs over us, and that no one gives a damn. That would surely
strip that look from her eyes. But each time that I start to tell her, each time I try to pull her into reality, I can’t. In our world, the hope that things will get better is the only thing that makes each day worth living. I can’t take that from her. My spirit has been broken and I hate every single person that brought me to this point. I don’t want her to hate me. She’s the only one in this world that loves me. Losing her just might be the straw that finally breaks my ever so fragile back.

  Sasha

  Things are lonelier now than when Junior was just missing. This time I know he’s not coming back, so instead of half of my heart missing, it’s just gone. The belief that he can’t stay gone from me forever isn’t there anymore. It hurts so bad I don’t even have the words to explain. In the past, when my friends told me what it was like to have family member killed, I didn’t understand it. I couldn’t even imagine what they were feeling. Now I understand. I feel the physical pain that gives the impression that someone is stomping on your chest without caring how much it hurts. I don’t think this feeling will ever go away.

  No one ever went to jail for killing Junior, at least not for more than a few days. Nevaeh and I were the only two witnesses that wanted to testify, but they said we were not reliable because we are Junior’s sisters. They said people that are related to the victim often lie because they just want someone to be punished. The prosecutor said that it’s not the feeling of justice being served that gives families closure. It’s only the feeling that someone is paying for the pain that they’ve suffered that helps them to move on. So, what happens when no one pays? We just don’t move on? We’ll be stuck in those final moments of Junior’s life forever, knowing that there’s nothing we can do and nothing we can say to find relief.