Side Chick Life 3: The Finale

by Nicety

  “Rob, bring the bitch,” Deidra ordered.

  Rob quick as ever from the gate entrance busting a fat ass sawed off shotgun in the direction of the bullets. We ducked and dodged making our way behind him as he backed up with us continuously popping that thang. We all headed over to her Lexus noticing the gunfire had stopped. I knew it was David.

  No one else would have shot at us like that. That nigga had to have had more than one gun with the way he was shooting at us. There were so many bullets flying in the air that I was amazed we didn’t get hit. And, after the way Rob was busting at his ass, I hoped one of them deadly motherfuckas got David right in his ass.

  As Deidra peeled out like a bat out of hell, I couldn’t help but think about the fact that she and Ox were right. I had no business wandering off by myself figuring I could do this shit alone. I was an amateur at this shit no matter how much heart I had for it. It was time that I played this shit smart and not hard. I wanted the revenge but after tonight, no matter how badly I missed my son, I wasn’t prepared to die anymore. This shit was real.

  I didn’t think it would be what Keylan would have wanted for me either. If he were grown, I knew I would have raised him to be a better man than his dad could have ever been. Keylan wouldn’t have wanted me to stupidly join in him death. He would have wanted me to live life in order to keep the memory of him alive. That’s exactly what I planned to do, once I helped Ox and his goons rip David’s body to fucking shreds limb by sickening limb.

  Meanwhile, Across Town

  Violet

  This was where it all started. When I was lying in that revolting cold dark basement, I actually didn’t think that I would ever see this place again. From the outside, it was the picture perfect middle class home. The well kempt shrubbery and flowers made it appear as though nothing but happiness exuded from within. That could have been the truth if it weren’t for all of the damn lies it told and the secrets it kept.

  The air was brisk against my skin as I stood there watching, waiting for my body to get the memo and lead me there. My eyes danced with the flickering lights of looked like the TV being left on against the darkness of the rest of the inside of the house. Something inside of me wanted to turn around and let the shit go. Like maybe I should let bygones be bygones. But that voice kept taunting me, fucking with my mental as it whispered in my ear wistfully and raspy. No one will ever hurt you again. No one.

  My feet led the way to the porch as I searched the fake pottery plant on the side of the door for the key. Finding it in the fake balls of black dirt, I used it to open the door pushing it in cautiously. The door crept open like one of those old horror movie scenes. As I looked around at the horrid display in front of me, the memories of what happened behind these doors for so many years played in front of my eyes like one too.

  There she was spread eagle stuck in her favorite groove of the couch as always. She was fast asleep, past out in her own intoxicated juices. Judging by the many Budweiser bottles strewn around the coffee table and raggedy carpet, the ton of cigarette butts in the ashtray and the needle sticking out of her arm, I'd say she had herself a good ol' fashioned celebration up in here. Probably celebrating the long awaited moment of my death.

  From the looks of it, it seemed as though she had partied alone. Vigilantly, I paced the small bungalow house to make sure no one else was in there binging on dope and beer with her. My eyes focused on each room and every corner making sure no one was passed out somewhere I hadn’t seen. No one else was there. She was alone in her drunken, drug induced coma. Returning to the living room I watched as drool dripped from the crevices of her mouth, an indication of that good deep sleep.

  Gazing down upon her I couldn't help but wonder why. Why had she turned her back on her only daughter, her only child? Why was I not good enough to love all these years? Why was my life not as important as hers? My heart had broken into millions of pieces long ago because of her. She couldn't hurt me anymore. The damage had been done.

  "Wake up you old hag," I spat loudly as I slammed the front door even louder to get her attention.

  After many years of watching momma self medicate her problems away, I learned a thing or two about getting her attention. Her head tilted up from its lean searching the room for the noise hastily. I walked over to the TV shutting it off with the remote I picked up off the coffee table and dropped it back down as if I didn’t give a shit about making a ton of noise. Her eyes were glossed over when they met with mine and when she looked up at me they widened as if they had just seen a ghost. They had. I should have been dead. In her eyes, I always was. But seeing me still there in the flesh didn’t seem to sit well with her as I watched her struggle to bring her overweight build to her usual upright position.

  “Well looky, looky, looky. Here is Cookie,” I hissed before sitting down in the Lazy Boy chair recliner directly adjacent from her end of the couch. “I thought we would never have the chance to have this talk.”

  “Wh… What are you doing here, Violet?” Her words stammered over one another trying to regain her composure, shaking violently. “You’re supposed to be—“

  “Dead? Oh yeah, about that. Maybe next time you won’t send an asshole to do your dirty work for you.” Snatching the remote up again, I flicked the TV on turning to the news channel. “Just sit there and wait for it to show up. They’ll tell you what happened to your precious savior.”

  Cookie stirred in slow motion distraught by my presence but since the drug had a tight grip on her reaction time there wasn’t much she could do. She was high as shit, higher than that thang up in here. Snatching the .40 caliber from out of the back of my jeans revealing it right by the side of my leg, I watched as her eyes spread open when she caught wind of it. If I wanted to I could have planted a bullet right in between her eyes while she slept. But naw. A beautiful quiet death? That shit was too good for her.

  She stirred more in her seat rubbing her face profusely trying to sober herself up enough to get it together. I guess she thought she might be able to fight me back whenever I finally attacked her. But that shit wasn’t going to happen. In the back of my mind, all that played over and over again in my thoughts was beating her face to a bloody pulp to the point where she was unrecognizable. But even that was letting her off too easy.

  “What do you want from me Violet?” Her lip trembled searching around for God knew what as she scratched aimlessly at her neck.

  “What do you think I want momma? Huh? I want answers Cookie. I want what any child wanted at that age, scared and alone in a room with grown men touching and feeling all up on her. I want what I’ve been searching for all these years in all the wrong places,” I paused nearly out of breath feeling almost like I was about to have a nervous break down.

  “I raised you as best I could—“

  “You didn’t do shit, Cookie. Stop all the fucking lying. You didn’t give a fuck about me. All I ever asked of you was for you to love me. That’s all I ever wanted for you to do and you couldn’t even do that shit. If I was that much of a burden on you, why didn’t you give me up for adoption? I probably could’ve have a way better life than this shit here,” I shouted waving my hands around to the crap fest of a house.

  “Because I wasn’t about to go through thirteen hours of labor and not have anything to show for it. Hell, you almost didn’t make it here anyway. You were almost an abortion.” Cookie’s head shook as she searched her Newport 100’s box for a cigarette.

  “Ha, well at least I would’ve been way better off than being alive and having you for a damn mother.” My eyes lowered to the floor hunting for the strength not to shed a single tear. “All I ever wanted was your love, momma. And yet, all you ever had for me was your cold dead heart given to me by the stench of your male friends.”

  “I never told them to touch you, Violet.”

  “Shit you might as well have. You never did much to stop the shit from happening either, Cookie.” I paced the dingy carpet frantically. “And then you tried to
get rid of me, get rid of your problem once and for all? That’s how you play me?”

  “You were fucked up in the head. You kept fucking up people’s lives. Everyone you came in contact with you destroyed. I couldn’t let you fuck up no one else’s life any longer. Hell mine was already fucked up. Why would I let that shit keep happening to other people?” She puffed heavily on her cigarette taking long deep drags.

  “Oh them you care about… Just not me. If I’m so fucked up, Cookie, it’s because you made me this way.” I pointed out.

  Beating the butt of the gun against my temple slightly, I tried to regain my self-control. I never thought this shit would have me so wrapped tight in my feelings once I finally voiced what I was feeling to her. I figured I would be able to be as cold as ice just like she was. What made it so bad was that I wanted to be. But the truth was, I wasn’t my mother. I was nothing like her. Any mother who would abandon her child to men and allow some stranger that she barely even knew to kill that child wasn’t human. She was in fact a demon from hell.

  “Anyway, it was just one time that nigga tried to get at you and we stopped him,” Cookie’s voice started out low and it up loud as fuck.

  “Liar! You know damn well it wasn’t just one. There were multiple men. Every time you wanted to have a party someone was sneaking into my damn room to get at me. You have no idea how scared I was all alone with no one to help. You have no idea what it was like to be a child with a whore junkie for a mother.” Pointing the gun to her face she stared down its dark barrel.

  “They weren’t trying to hurt you. They just wanted a little taste,” she admitted.

  “Oh my fucking gosh. Shut the fuck up right now.” I covered my ears.

  “They just wanted a little bit. I couldn’t give them what they wanted and I needed just a little hit of some shit in my veins. Just a little taste.”

  “Shut up!”

  “I told them to be gentle. They promised they would be,” Cookie continued.

  “Oh my gosh! Shut. The fuck. Up!” Raising my arm in the air I pointed the gun to the ceiling squeezing the trigger.

  The gun went off sending the bullet into the ceiling forcing it to crumble where it inserted. White specs of drywall powder fell on my head but I barely flinched as it hit my hair, nose and eyelashes. Her mouth was closed tight. I could read the fear in her eyes, that glossy ‘almost want to cry’ fear. She probably thought it was so sweet to have been able to get away with murder and wash her hands of all things that resembled me. But she was wrong and what she thought would be a distant memory was about to be her worst fucking nightmare. I squeezed again.

  Meantime…

  Vega

  “Last call.”

  The bartender wasn’t feeling me sitting at his bar anymore, I guess. Yeah, I was drunk as shit but I couldn’t stand being treated like a child when it came to drinking. I needed about two more shots of Patron before I went back to that damn house alone. Mika wanted to spend a quiet night alone with her sister at the hospital. Who was I to deny her of that? She also figured that I needed some time away from there for a while. I probably did but I just wasn’t ready yet.

  “Give me a Bud to go, Jerry.” I slapped my hand on the bar, rising up from my seat.

  “You and I both know damn well that shit ain’t happening.” His deep voice carried heavily over the dissipating crowd as he cleaned glasses with his bar towel.

  I sent him the dirtiest side eye as his dark brown eyes returned the favor. After spending over four hours at this bar I thought Jerry and I would be new best friends. But his rejection of my over indulgence of alcohol consumption pissed me all the way off. Needless to say, I wasn’t coming back to this shit hole again.

  Shuffling through my wallet pulling out three twenty and one ten dollar bill, I smashed them on the bar before shoving the wallet back in my back pocket. I was done here. There was nothing left for me to do but go home and accept the fact that I would have to sleep alone, at least until Angel got well.

  “Aye, uh un, you ain’t driving home like that. Give me your keys.” Jerry held out his hand to me.

  “Naw, naw. I’m not giving up my keys. I’m cool to drive home. I’ve been doing this shit since before you were born motherfucka. I’ve got this.” I shook my head hoping to keep my balance as I made it to the front door. “Your big black ass is gonna have to fight me for them if you want them so damn bad.”

  When he turned his head back towards the bar eager to clean up in a flash so he could get out of there, I nodded my head at him to assure him that I had my shit under control. Darting out the door before he could stop me again, I hit the car door and revved it up quick. I was only a few miles from my house so getting home was a breeze. There was barely any traffic on the street at 2am so I basically coasted along the way.

  I felt like shit but was determined to keep my shit together until I made it home. My head was spinning out of control and my stomach was feeling queasy from not having eaten any of the major food groups in days. The only food I’ve been able to muster was water and crackers. Neither was going to do me any good at this point. I turned the corner thanking God that I was pulling up in front of the house safe and sound. For a second, I contemplated driving off the side of the road, crashing into a tree and just ending it all. I quickly retreated from that thought when the swerving I was already doing from being drunk fucked my head up.

  Staggering through the front door, nothing gave me any satisfaction of being there. It was dark, cold, and eerie inside, not that it hadn’t been that way when Angel was still here. But it was the thought of coming home to a lifeless house that scared me the most. I was so used to her being there every night that I wasn’t used to shit else. It depressed me to no end as I flicked the switch on to the living room light.

  “Oh shit,” I bellowed crashing my back against the wall.

  It felt like my heart had jumped out of my chest, back in and then back out again. My head spun as fast as my thoughts looking around to see if there was anyone waiting in the dark crevices of the house, waiting to come out and surprise me even further than they had already done, or quite possibly, waiting to put a bullet in my head.

  There was no movement and no other sounds that I could hear other than the sound of my own erratic breathing. Feeling as though the coast was clear, I moved closer to the strange liquid substance spread around on my floor. It was a heavy dark color so I couldn’t place exactly what it was. The wooden floor creaked underneath my feet as I rounded the couch in search of the substance’s origin.

  “What the fuck?” The words escaped my lips as I peeled back one of my duvet blankets revealing what was underneath.

  My stomach rumbled staring down at a fucking pig’s head with bulging eyes and blood spewing from the back of what was left of it. If the car ride home didn’t make me sick, this most certainly did. I blew chunks right on top of it, squeezing my stomach and eyes at the same time. The smell of year old garbage filled my nose as I bent over continually barfing all over the horrid display before me. The more I threw up the more I realized that I was still going to have to be the one to clean all that shit up.

  This shit was crazy as hell. I felt like I was in a real live horror movie and Michael Meyers was about to jump out with some inanimate object and stab me to death with it. Rushing to the kitchen, I hunched over the sink to get a drink of water in hopes of sending my stomach into a slight recovery. I couldn’t even face in the direction of the living room for fear of rehashing the vomit to come up from within.

  Regaining my composure after a few more sips of water, I turned back towards the living room to assess the damage. Now that I was able to focus, I saw that the blood wasn’t just on the floor. It was everywhere. Turning on more lights revealed the blood splatter all on the walls, the furniture and on the back of the front door. The blood on the door dripped tremendously on the floor. I couldn’t understand why I didn’t know that I had stepped all in it. The words were ragged but what it spelled was clear a
s day. Secrets.

  “Fuck,” I thundered, digging in my pocket pulling out my cell dialing the number I had stored as quickly as possible. “Hello, Ox?”

  “Yo, who the fuck is this man? You know what fucking time it is?” Annoyance resounded through his voice.

  “Look, my bad man but… This shit is getting too deep now. Motherfuckas broke in my house and destroyed my living room. Shit is all fucked up and they’re steady sending me messages. I need this shit handled now, Ox. Whatever amount it takes, I’ll get it.”

  “First of all, you lucky I answered this motherfucking phone for your bitch ass. ‘Cause I’m in the middle of some business right now. Secondly, I told you I would handle that shit man. Do what the fuck you gotta do on your end to clean that shit up and when I get some shit then I’ll hit you with it. You feel me?”

  “Ox, man—“

  “Aye, you just worry about getting that motherfucking money up, boi. You need to have it ready and waiting at all times so when I call you, you lower that shit.”

  “How much?”

  “Real motherfucking G’s nigga. A hundred thousand of ‘em.”

  “What? Damn man that’s a lot of motherfucking scratch, Ox.” My feet paced the floor as pools of sweat built up under my arms. “Don’t worry. I’ll have it.”

  “You’d better. Or your shit ain’t getting dealt with. Period.” With that he hung up the phone on me.

  “Fuck.” I launched my phone across the room and into a vase shattering it on contact.

  My hands pressed against my hips as I blew off some more steam staring down at the work of art someone had so eloquently left in my expensive ass living room. The money wasn’t going to break me too bad, as I had been doing really well this year. I would just have to hold back another year to open my private practice, that’s all.

  One hundred thousand dollars was more than I had wanted to pay for some simple shit to be handled but I knew he probably wouldn’t make it that simple. He was probably thinking of getting rid of my problem once and for all. It wasn’t what I wanted but I knew it was the only way that I would be able to live the rest of my life without fear.