by Brick
If what she had said about the basement hadn’t damn near scared me stiff, I would have laughed my fat ass clear off. But fear had me shaking. I mean, I started shaking like I was about to have a seizure.
I heard movement out in the hall and backed away from the door, scared that niggas was coming to get me. Once the commotion died down, I started to look around for some sort of weapon to keep on me.
“You ain’t got no blades up in here, Gina? Like you strip, right, you ain’t got nothing on you to protect you from niggas out there?” I asked in a panic.
“Naw. Daddy takes care of me. I get my own bodyguard. Big Jake. You know the cute big dude?”
She said that in a dreamy way, like she liked him or something.
I nodded. “Yeah, he threw me in the closet.”
“You lucky then. If Big Jake put you there, he wasn’t gon’ let nobody fuck wit’ yo’. And you still kinda lucky ’cuz Trigga warned me so I could tell you. Trigga don’t like none of these niggas in here really. Him and Big Jake hang tight. Trigga always brings me my favorite Happy Meal and stuff, if I don’t piss him off. Sometimes I do though, but he don’t call me out my name, like Dough Boy. You don’t wanna get hooked up wit’ Dough Boy.”
I still had yet to know what he looked like beyond a glimpse. But I knew that fuckin’ voice, and before my time here was up, I was going to kill that muthafucka. “I don’t really know who he is.”
“You don’t wanna know that nigga either. He likes using his big retarded dick as a weapon. You know, like that nigga didn’t want no pussy from me. He just rammed the shit up my ass. He a fuckin’ faggot on the down low I bet. He likes beating on bitches too much.”
After a while I just drowned Gina out. I had to figure out a way to get myself a weapon. I wasn’t gon’ be taken there without nothing in my hand to fight with. If I died or some shit, I’d die fighting.
I asked her, did she think I could take a shower.
She told me, “Smelly pussy ain’t selling pussy, and if you going to the basement, ain’t no need to wash ya cunt.”
That scared the hell out of me even more.
She locked me in her room when it was time to eat dinner. She said Dame always fed them good because he wanted them at their best, since they were his prime stock.
“I’ll let you know when shit’s about to get hell for you. Most of these niggas talk around me ’cuz they think I’m stupid. I’ll try to get you a heads-up.”
I didn’t see Gina for the rest of the night. I stayed awake for fear of being tossed in the basement. And I was hungry. I could smell the food wafting through the house. I sat in a corner with my back to the wall and facing the door. Anytime somebody walked back, I jumped up.
That went on for two days. I still didn’t see Gina. Nobody brought me any food. I drank water from the faucet in her bathroom and pretended it was my mama’s lasagna and my daddy’s corn bread. I was starting to smell a little bit, but not as much as I wished. I was getting weak because of no food, but I tried to do the exercises I’d always seen my daddy do to stay alert. Push-ups, jumping jacks, shadowboxing. I found a white sports bra that fit, and I put it on to cover my titties. Then I found a pair of sweats too.
On the second day Gina rushed into the room then dragged me into the closet. She looked different. Her long braids were in two pigtails, and she had a bag on her shoulder. She was dressed in booty shorts that exposed her ass cheeks, and a ripped top that showcased her big breasts and small waist. And she wore tall army-like boots on her pigeon-toed feet.
“You starting to stink. That’s good,” she calmly said as she rushed to open the book bag. She started taking out fried chicken, steak, mac and cheese, bread, and water.
I snatched up everything before she could say it was mine. I tore into the fried chicken and ripped the top from the container of mac and cheese.
“Daddy gon’ fuck me up for feeding you. Nigga got cameras everywhere in this house, probably got some shit in here too.” She then looked up, like she was trying to scope where one would be. She then stood and quickly turned the light.
“Thank you,” I was able to get out between mouthfuls of food.
“Don’t thank me, Ray-Ray. I’m only feeding you ’cuz they coming for yo’ ass soon. Heard niggas jawing.” She giggled. “I learned that word from Trigga and Big Jake. Jawing means niggas standing ’round yapping gums like bitches. All excited over pussy, like they ain’t had it. That’s what Trigga was saying. He ain’t like these other niggas. He smart, Ray-Ray. You need to try to get him to talk to you.”
“Fuck him!” I spat. “He was there when they killed my mama and daddy. Fuck him! I’ma kill that nigga too.”
Gina laughed like she was having a fit. Even though it was dark in the closet, I could see her fall back laughing.
“Girl, you ain’t killing Trigga. That nigga crazy, lightning quick. He could kill you before you blinked. Yo’ ass better off trying to kill that fake bitch, Sasha. She mad as fuck at you right now, but, naw, you ain’t killing Trigga. You know he killed Janky and Slammer two days ago, right? Daddy said he shot them niggas then sliced their throats before they bodies even hit the fuckin’ ground.”
I listened to what she said as I gulped water down. Was he the one that killed my mama and my daddy? I didn’t know, but I was gonna kill everybody in the room when it happened. So he had killed Janky and Slammer, huh? Why not Pookie? Why he ain’t kill that nigga too? I looked up at Gina when she stood.
“I gotta go give Daddy his afternoon massage. He be pissed when I’m late,” she said, like this life was normal. “I do it every day, and when he’s really satisfied with me, he gives me extra stuff.”
I mean, I knew my mama and daddy lived the life, but they ain’t let me live it. They did drugs and shit and tried to kill each other around me, but they loved me too much to pimp me. Mama said she would never do to me what her mama had done to her—Make her suck a nigga’s dick at ten. Daddy said wasn’t no nigga gon’ be pimping his daughter, making her sell her pussy to the highest bidder. I wanted to believe the only reason he gave me to Dame was to keep him from killing me. I wished he would have let them kill me.
“Got somethin’ you need in that bag, Ray-Ray. Don’t leave nothing in the bag.” Gina then left me there.
I was eating like a damn pig. I didn’t even know if the shit was good. All I knew was, it felt good going down my throat. As I chewed on a piece of steak, I reached into the bag. I pulled out some peach cobbler and then looked into the bag again. When I didn’t see anything, I wondered why Gina told me not to leave nothing in the bag. I shrugged then used my hand to start eating the cobbler. Shit was still hot, but I was starving.
When I stuck my hand in the second time, I yelped, dropped the bowl, and hopped up. I flipped the light on to see blood dripping from my left hand. “Shit!” I had sliced my finger. I grabbed a shirt from the hanger to wrap around my hand.
But I took my attention back to the container with the peach cobbler; I dumped it all out then saw the gift Gina had left me—three razor blades. I thanked that dense-in-the-head girl as I rushed to swoop them up. I was about to run to the bathroom to wash them until I remembered what she had said about the cameras.
I picked up the cobbler container and rushed to the bathroom to fill it with water then I brought it back to the closet and washed the sticky mess off them. Once done, I tried to decide how I was going to hide them on me.
My mama had showed me how to hide a blade under my tongue. I prayed I remembered and didn’t cut my shit off. The other two I hid in my bra, hoping I would be able to get to them when time called for it.
From there I just waited. I paced the room floor back and forth like Gina had done just days before, but nobody came. I got tired and was feeling sluggish from all the food I’d scarfed down, so I took a seat in the corner that I occupied. Before I knew it, I’d fallen asleep.
When I came to, four niggas were rushing in the room. I tried to fight, but they had caught me
sleeping. I managed to kick one right in his dick as he came for me. He yelped out and fell to his knees.
“Yo, grab that li’l bitch!” Dough Boy yelled out. “How the fuck it take fo’ of y’all niggas for a sixteen-year-old ho?”
I knew it wasn’t gon’ do much good, since four of them had come for me, but I would always fight for my life. When one picked me up from behind, I kicked my leg out to kick Pookie in the face. I kicked that ugly bumpy-face fool so hard, his teeth cut my bare foot. That nigga was gon’ pay for snitching out my folks too. I tried to do it again, but another nigga grabbed my right foot.
I could hear Dough Boy laughing at the door.
I finally got a good look at him. He was five eleven, tops, and rocking cornrows that stopped just below his neck. He was dark like me, with beady eyes that showed sinister thinking, and his big greasy lips protruded from his face, reminding me of a platypus.
When the niggas who had grabbed me carried me through the door, I wanted to spit in that nigga face, but couldn’t because of the blade in my mouth.
I spotted Gina hiding in a corner, peeking at the chaos. Big Jake shook his head and turned to walk the other way.
For some reason, I was looking for Trigga. He was always around somewhere. There was no party going on, and everyone had come up the stairs to watch me being dragged to the basement.
Sick muthafuckas! The whole fuckin’ house was sick.
I caught a movement out the corner of my eye and saw Sasha slink forward from the room I was in first, a smirk on her face. She had gotten that weave fixed, and her makeup hid the bruises. She was decked out in a pink two-piece jumpsuit and pink Nike Shox on her feet. I wished like hell I could get my feet loose and kick that bitch in her face.
“Let’s see how tough you are now, bitch!” she quipped, emphasizing on the bitch, just to fuck with me.
I saw countless faces of women: black, white, Latino, Asian, and other ethnicities too. A few looked like they felt sorry for me, while the rest gave shakes of the head, with looks that said I was getting what I deserved.
I had almost pissed on myself from being so scared.
Then I heard my mama’s voice again. Seen her face just like she was right in front of me.
“Fight these niggas, baby. Don’t give up shit. If they want it, make ’em kill you for it. It’s yours. Ain’t naan nigga got a right to take it. Kill yo’self if you have to. Better than this shit.”
Right then I decided I wasn’t going to the underworld. Fuck that!
I started kicking and bucking again. Managed to free one of my hands. I reached into my mouth and grabbed the blade. First thing I did was slice at the nigga’s face who was holding my left side, Pookie. I sliced right down the side of his face.
He yelped out, “Ahhh, fuck! Shit! This bitch cut me!” He fell against the wall, hands trying to stop the bleeding.
That caused him to drop his hold on me, and the other niggas to drop me to the floor. I hit with a hard thud.
I jumped up and sliced at another nigga, catching his face. I swung wildly with the blade, not giving a fuck about cutting myself in the process. That didn’t stop the others from grabbing at me though. I screamed out as I swung, but they kept coming.
I started praying. I ain’t ever prayed a day before in my life, but I did then.
Next thing I knew, I heard Dame’s booming voice. “Can’t none of you niggas handle this little bitch?”
Blood was everywhere, on the floor, on the walls. I’d cut up at least four niggas.
By now, most of the girls had run off.
Dame’s cold gaze turned my way. I knew I was fucked. I knew that, because he charged at me.
I got my footing and then tried to run away, but his big hand in the back of my hair stopped me. My blade fell to the floor, but I couldn’t run no more, so I had to fight.
He jerked my body around, and my fists started flying. I already knew I’d made a mistake as soon as my fists connected with his face.
“No, no, Ray-Ray. You never hit Daddy.”
I knew it was Gina’s voice, without even seeing her.
Dame let my hair go, and because I was trying to pull away anyway, it caused me to fly backwards, but I didn’t fall.
His upper lip twitched, and his hazel eyes turned to ice. He drew back and punched me square in the jaw, and I felt teeth loosen and fall out, saw the blood leap from my mouth, and felt my world come to a halt, all before crashing to the floor. I was halfway dead in my head.
I was being moved. I knew I was going to the basement for sure now. I tried, Mama, I thought. I tried. My head was heavy; I couldn’t even hold that shit up.
“Put that bitch in my room!” Dame ordered. “I need a whole new set of fuckin’ niggas. Is Trigga the only son of a bitch I count on around this muthafucka? How has one bitch been able to fuck up half my team in three fuckin’ days? I should have Trigga body all you muthafuckas! And clean my muthafuckin’ hall! Clean the fuck up! Clean this shit! Now!”
My body was tossed on the floor at the foot of a colossal bed. I was in and out of consciousness. Didn’t know how long I would live after that hit. All I knew was, I didn’t want to be hit again.
“Muthafuckin’ fuckin’ up my shit I paid my hard-earned money for. I’ma show you, bitch,” I heard Dame say as he slammed the door to his room. Then I heard his belt buckle loosen.
I started to moan as I tried to crawl away. It was going to happen. I was going to be raped. I heard the light swoosh of the belt leaving the loops of his pants.
I closed my eyes. I would have tried to talk if my mouth could function. But, I swear, that nigga had broken my jaw. When he yanked the sweats I had on down to my ankles, and then my underwear, I just laid there, accepting what was about to happen.
However, I was wrong about being raped. I was about to be beaten.
The first lash of the belt came down on my back, and I found my voice. What was left of it, I used it to cry out.
“That’s what the fuck wrong with yo’ ass—Your daddy didn’t ever beat the fuck outta you! Got you walking around my shit thinking you run some shit, bitch.”
WACK! WACK! WACK!
The belt pounded my back, butt, and thighs.
“Fuckin’ up my walls and shit like you done made me some fuckin’ money to cover the shit.”
I shrieked as each hit tore into my skin. It felt like electricity was shooting up my spine. Anyone within a twenty-mile radius could have probably heard me crying.
Dame was right. My daddy had never put a hand on me. Neither had my mama. I was a good kid. I listened to them. They didn’t have to hit me ever.
One hit came across the back of my head. WACK!
Another one to the side of my face. WACK!
I grabbed a hold of his pant leg, trying to wrap myself between them, to get away from the belt, but he kept hitting me, beating me like he had a mission to engrave the holes of the leather belt into my skin.
I caught a glimpse of his face, and it was twisted in a demonic kind of way. That nigga looked like the devil to me at that point. He was as crazy as Gina said he was.
I didn’t know how long he beat me. Eventually, I blacked out.
Trigga
Two days had passed, and a nigga was tired as fuck. Bossman Dame had me running the streets hard, after taking down Janky and Slammer. I wasn’t sure what was up with him, outside of being pissed that his rep was fucked up with the LKs, as well as his money. But I was good with it, because I was out of the madhouse. Yeah, that’s what I called it.
Ever since that new broad came into the place and shook up the crazy, every nigga and bitch in there, except for the ones who I know had minds like mine, had been on edge, mean-mugging everyone and causing some shit, especially Sasha. The old bitch, thinking she was the head bitch in charge, was popping off at the mouth at any chance she could when Dame wasn’t around.
After the party, and after I had dumped those two niggas, I had heard through my sources, Gina and Big J
ake, that Dame had fucked up the new broad. But it was how he did it that made me laugh. Chick stayed fighting, which I could respect in some sense, and she cut up all the niggas Dame had put on her. Of course that pissed off Dame more, especially since he didn’t get to take her to the basement, or what some niggas called the underworld.
Like I said, I had my dealing in there. Naw, I ain’t ever in my young life rape not one chick. I wasn’t even being about that shit, but the way Dame had that shit set up, even niggas could get fucked up by getting branded, beat the fuck up or, for some of those prison niggas that were about the life down there, fucked in the ass and the mouth.
Me, I just got strung up and beat. It happened when I was mad young and still learning how to run for Dame. Got shortchanged some dinero, and it ended up falling back on me.
Yeah, I saw bitches raped, beat, burned, cut, pipes up pussy and asshole, all kinds of shit. At thirteen, I knew already not to fuck up to the point of being handed to some prison niggas. Was I scared? Fuck, nah. But I like shitting normal, so I knew not to ever have to go down there. Feel me?
Anyway, like I was saying, my ears and eyes stayed in the street, so everyone was talking about my party and everything that had been going down after that.
Two days, I went in and out of the house doing me, running product, trying to speak to the Latin Kings again, watching Dame’s right hand, Dough Boy, move money around. I was a killer, but after having Dame’s back and snuffing out those two niggas, Dame fucked around and told me to shadow Dough Boy, learn how to move the money and shit. Yeah, I was a happy nigga, and I was a watchful nigga.
Gina hit me up in our own slick way, letting me know what went down with that new crazy broad. She handed me one of those small Mickey D’s Happy Meal fry containers that had two blades in it and a blunt. In code that meant, a nigga got cut up, but li’l shawty survived. The rest of the details, I learned from Big Jake the next day while we were out fuckin’ around grabbing some shit for the Bossman in the streets.
