by Sa'id Salaam
Dope Girl 2
Just like daddy
Sa’id Salaam
© 2013 Sa’id Salaam
All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means, including scanning, photocopying, or otherwise without prior written permission of the copyright holder.
The Opening
In the name of God, the most gracious, most merciful
All praise is for God, Lord of everything in existence
Most gracious, most merciful
King of the day of judgment
It you alone we worship, you alone we seek aid
Guide us to the straight path
The path of those who have earned your favor, not those who earned your wrath or went astray.
Ameen
The Prologue
"You're a hunter; a lion, a tiger, a predator. You have to eat to live and you must kill to eat. You don't eat; you die. Now what you gonna do, eat or starve? Live or die?"
"I'ma eat granddaddy. I'ma kill." Cameisha replied to her grandfather's posthumous coaching, as she stalked her prey.
She was indeed just like a lion as she crept forward unseen. Instead of tall grass to conceal her approach, she blended into the ghetto landscape. Her disguise was perfect for this urban jungle. She fit right in.
Tovia looked back at the bag lady with contempt. It seemed the same dirty hobo had been following her for the last few nights. She had been, but never this close. She hoped the old hag would beg her for some spare change. She squeezed the knife in her pocket in anticipation. All she had coming was some spare stitches. Ironically, it was the exact same knife that got her into this trouble.
Cutting through the darkened park in the Bronx at night wasn't the best idea but since it shaved a few blocks off her trip, she made the gamble. After dunking chicken in hot grease for the last eight hours, anything that could get her in a hot shower was an option. When she noticed the bag lady had gotten too close for comfort, she stopped to confront her.
"Fuck you following me or something!" Tovia spun and demanded. A press of a button flicked the shiny switch blade open.
“Shole is." The bag lady replied in a deep southern drawl. The bright clean smile was incongruous to the filthy clothes and hair. She pulled the wig off to answer the 'where do I know you' question contorting her prey's face.
"You!" Tovia announced, seeing Cameisha clearly. She dropped her knock-off purse and prepared for battle. "You must miss your buddy Angie huh? Don't worry, you bout to see her real quick."
"One of us is, that's for sho." Meisha replied, getting into a defensive stance.
Cameisha had a gun, a cute little 40 cal but didn't pull it. She was going Old Testament tonight: An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. That meant Tovia was getting stabbed to death.
The combatants circled looking for the chance to strike. Meisha gave her a false opening and she eagerly took it.
Tovia thrust the dagger at her torso, giving Meisha a chance to apply some of Karate Joe's teaching. A beautiful counter move was executed to perfection as she side-stepped the lunge and grabbed her wrist and arm. Once the wrist was bent past the point that wrist were designed to be bent, the knife came free. Cameisha grabbed it and rammed it into Tovia's face. Her first thought was to run until the unexpected happened.
"Huh?" Tovia asked curiously as Meisha handed the knife back. She wisely accepted it then foolishly made the same move with the same results.
Only this time Cameisha stabbed her in her arm before giving the knife back. She gave it back and the cycle repeated itself. It was like something out of a Jackie Chan movie. Over and over she got stabbed in different parts of her body. The wounds weren't fatal; they were torture. It was only when one of the blows nicked her femoral artery that Cameisha decided to cut short her fun. Without medical attention the girl would be dead in minutes, only she didn't have minutes left. Her book of life was flipped to its final page as Meisha tried to return the knife one last time.
"Nuh uh!" Tovia said, shaking her head vigorously at the outstretched knife. "You keep it!"
That brought a quick smile to Cameisha's face but it quickly morphed into a mask of murder. Play time was over; it was time to die. She rushed forward and drove the long slender blade into Tovia's forehead. It was buried in her brain up to the hilt.
Tovia looked confused as her eyes fluttered trying to bring death into focus. She looked like she wanted to say something but couldn't find the words. Maybe she would figure it out in the afterlife because this one was over.
"Go on and die now. I gotta go home and get packed. I'm going to college!" Cameisha urged proudly. Tovia frowned but complied and dropped dead. Gloves ensured the knife in her head didn't bare any fingerprints on them. She shed her dirty disguise and dumped it in the park's dumpster as she made her exit. It was a clean murder just like she had been taught. No witnesses, no DNA, no nothing. She was just like daddy.
Chapter 1
"Bitch, you sound crazy! Yo ass is twenty-two talking about some damn college! Fuck outta here bitch, this aint no It's a different world." Keisha chided.
Jackie's cousin wasn't shit and wanted some company in her miserable existence. They could be team we ain't shit. She was born and raised in the projects and intended to die there. This was her life and she was cool with it.
"You need to bring your ass down to the club tonight. First we gotta get yo ass some clothes. Fuck you got on? The prison don't give yall nothing when they let you out? You look a mess. Anyway, I'ma clean you up. Meet the right baller and come up."
Jackie only half listened to the negligible advice until finally she just saw her mouth moving a hundred miles an hour. The words had blended into the medley of sounds that was Harlem. Mookie was yelling at Jo-Jo, Quinta was laughing with La-La, car horns honking, sirens and as usual someone was shooting.
On one hand, yeah, she would be the oldest incoming freshman but it beat the title she currently held as the oldest chic in the projects without a kid. God is indeed Most- Gracious and Most-Merciful and spared her from having a child with her infamous ex-boyfriend.
Sure, the nickname 'Lil Ill Will' would have been ill but since she put a bullet in daddy's forehead it would make growing up a little uncomfortable. Finding out your parents were Jack and Ill could either work for or against you.
"Bitch, last week I met this nigga name…uh…named…? Anyway, I met this nigga last week who gave me a hundred bucks just to hang out in the V.I.P. with him. I aint have to fuck him or nothing. Just gave him a little head under the table and…."
After ten years of the free world prison that was life with Ill Will and another two in real prison, Jackie wanted nothing more than to put this past life behind. She wanted out of Harlem with a passion.
Her mother retired from her career as a crack head by dying of AIDS the same day Jackie got out. She made it to the hospital just in time to hear her mother's last words before her last breath.
"Leave." She pleaded, looking up at the pretty black girl staring down at her. "Baby, get out them projects and never come back."
"Ok, Ma." Jackie said just before the angel of death came to take what he was sent for.
While in prison Jackie applied for and was granted a full scholarship. It included all tuition, room and board, meals, and a twenty-five dollar weekly stipend for etceteras. You can't really buy a lot of etceteras for twenty-five bucks but it beats a blank.
She would be traveling light because she didn't have shit. A few dated outfits from the Good Will, the cheap sweater the prison gave her and very little self-esteem. Half of the small check they gave her went for mixed-matched 3-pack panties, bras and toiletries.
"I fuck
Petey once a week for weed. When Big Lou come pick up Lil Lou, I suck a few bucks out of him. Nigga don't wanna fuck cuz he married. So what, I'm his baby mama!" Keisha ranted. "Oh and Sherrod keep a bitch hair done for some head. Head for head; fair exchange aint robbery. I fucked…"
Jackie was broken down like a horse with no name. She was as docile as a church mouse, despite being the killer that she was. Otha had dumped her once he found out how close he had come to becoming her forth kill. The police called it self-defense since Will was in his apartment with a gun but still prosecuted Jackie for the dirty gun. The only thing that gave her solace was the look of shock on Ill Will's face when she shot him. That 'Oh shit I'm dead' face of the newly deceased.
The last two weeks she'd spent with her cousin since being released from prison were worse than prison itself. Actually, prison was pretty easy since she became an unwilling lesbian; letting a stud feed, protect and suck orgasms out of her. Beat the hell out of getting the hell beat out of you like what happened to a lot of girls. In prison, girls without a gang, clique or stud were preyed upon.
The bad black girl caused quite a stir among the studs as she and the other new arrivals arrived. Jolline, being the alpha male was given first crack at her. Either that or get fucked up.
"A-yo Ma, check it." Jolline spat as only one from Brooklyn can. "It's rough in here. You can do an easy bid with me or a hard one with them."
As Jackie processed the words along with their implications, she watched one of the girls who rode the bus with her being robbed. One gang of girls snatched all her property followed by two more who took her sneakers. Right after that, three girls dragged her kicking and screaming into a cell to be raped. They took the only thing she had left.
“You can get with that or you can get with this." Jolline offered and lolled out her long lizard like tongue and rubbed her chin hairs with it.
The combination of fear and slight curiosity led her to accept the offer. That night Jolline loaded her locker box with all the extras that helped prison become almost bearable. She then treated her to the first oral sex of her life. It helped the time pass but only pushed her further into submission.
“Bitch you sound crazy!" And even if yo ass do go to college you still aint gone be better than nobody. I coulda went to college too." Keisha yelled to her cousin's departing back as she left the apartment.
She berated her all the way down the hall. Jackie dipped into the stair case to escape the torment, walking down the pissy stairs beats getting insulted. Only Keisha was waiting on her when she emerged from the stairway. She hung her head out the window and hurled more insults at her as she walked quickly through the courtyard. Once she was out of sight, Keisha fell back on the sofa and cried. Poor thing didn't have anyone to be miserable with.
Jackie boarded the bus to the train to the plane without a side-eyed glance at the city she was leaving behind. It was a good riddance as far as she was concerned. Her worldly possessions just did fit in a bag small enough for the overhead storage. Once the plane was airborne she cast a woeful glance at New York City like it would be her last. It wouldn’t' be, but it would be her last time not having shit.
Chapter 2
"Child, you are going to miss your flight playing around." Deidra yelled to the back of the apartment where Cameisha and her friends were.
“I'ma freak it like this!" Dasia insisted, showing off a new move she planned to introduce to the now ubiquitous fat-fat dance.
"I'm coming!" Meisha yelled over the music and through the door. The festive mood turned somber in an instant. The urge to go was stronger than the one to stay so she resumed packing.
Having way too much stuff gave her a chance to give a lot of stuff away. A lot of stuff she brought to give away anyway. That's why some of it was in Aqua's size.
"Aqua, I need your umm, special talent." Cameisha asked.
"Oh is that what you call it?" Aqua quipped as she sat on the stuffed suitcase so it could be zipped up.
Dasia's face crinkled at the finality of the bag being closed. Her bottom lip quivered in a futile attempt not to cry.
"Girl what's wrong with you?" Meisha asked when she saw her friend's state.
"Nothing." Dasia lied despite the tears falling freely from her eyes.
"Aww, come here chica." Cameisha said, pouting with outstretched arms. Dasia took her up on the offer and rushed in to the embrace. Aqua came over and wrapped them both in her meaty arms. Together they sniffled and moaned like they just lost the championship, which would be cool for girls but 6' 10" men crying over a game is kinda creepy. Man the fuck up.
"Look guys, I left yall ten pounds of weed. The spot booming and Sincerity gone mess with yall on the re-up. Yall good?"
“Yeah, we cool." Dasia sniffled trying to regain her usual cool. She pulled away and swatted the tears from her now puffy face. "We got this, go do you!"
"Dasia!" Cameisha called after her as she stormed off.
"She just gone miss you." Aqua explained their friend's sudden departure. "Me, too."
"I'ma miss yall too. See, if yall would have graduated yall would be coming with me." She reminded.
"Next year!" Aqua cheered, actually believing it herself.
"Next year." Her friend repeated as if she believed it too.
"Girl, if we don't leave this apartment this instant, you are going to miss your flight! You can just stay here." Deidra demanded, sticking her head in.
That did the trick and put some pep in her step. Cameisha had seen enough of the Bronx. In the couple of years she had lived here she witnessed more death and destruction than she thought possible. She wanted nothing more than to put the thousand miles distance from here to school between her. She and Aqua shared a fake smile to mask the pain of departure but it didn't last.
“I'ma miss you." Aqua waited and snatched her back into her arms.
"Me…Argh…Too." Cameisha managed from the vice like grip.
They rocked and sobbed, sobbed and rocked until Grandma broke it up. Aqua grabbed a large suitcase in each hand while Meisha slung the tote over her back.
The project dwellers watched the exodus with mixed emotions. A medley of regret, pride and envy was felt from the various sets of eyes that followed them out. Some prayed she would make it big and never return. Others prayed she would fail and keep their misery company. One wanted to beg to come with her. Most were stuck because project life only prepares you for project life.
The car service had sent an S.U.V. to make the trip out to J.F.K. airport. Cameisha studied the city with the finality of someone not planning to return. She was getting one for the road, implanting one last visual. Ask anyone who has escaped from New York and they'll explain what that's like.
Grandma's threats of missing the first flight were highly embellished. In today's culture, a person has to arrive damn near a day in advance just to get through the security procedures. Those procedures forced grandmother and grandchild to say their goodbyes at the ticket counter. The best friends waved and blew kisses until they were out of sight.
A short plane ride and even shorter cab trip later and Cameisha were in front of her dorm at Atlanta College. She was on her own at that point and struggled to get her luggage to the curb. Since this was the all girls' dorm, there wasn't a dude in sight. Not this early in the day but come sundown, thirsty niggas would flock here like it was a desert oasis. In a way it was, only here you could wet your dick instead of your whistle. The building was rapidly filling with teenage girls and a couple of not so girls.
"You need some help with your bag sweetness?" A baritone voice asked from behind.
Meisha immediately switched into damsel in distress mode. She turned with fluttering eye lashes and smile that quickly turned into a scowl.
"I'm cool yo!" She spat viciously at the flirting stud smiling down at her. She had switched into battle mode, proving you can take a chick out of the South Bronx but you can't take the South Bronx out of a chic. Even if that chic is imported.
"Aight shawty. If you need anything," she paused to lick her lips to demonstrate how she licks lips, "holla at Scrappy."
Cameisha was hot at the come on and lugging those heavy ass bags up to the third floor turned up the heat. She found her room and burst in ready to fall over from exhaustion. The shell shocked inhabitant jumped up ready to flee like a frightened deer.
"Fuck wrong with you?" Meisha barked at the sudden move then caught herself. "I mean hey. I'm Cameisha, your new roommate."
"Um, I um, I'm Jackie." Jackie stammered and lowered her head into submission.
When they shook hands it was the innocuous beginning of a deadly alliance. She looked a lot younger than her twenty two years and her meekness brought a frown to Cameisha's face.
"Where you from?" Cameisha wondered aloud.
"Harlem." Jackie told her. She looked down at her cheap sneakers and then at her new friend’s expensive pair. "How bout you?"
"The Bronx, yo." She replied proudly as if she really was.
After the introductions were made they both turned to unpack. Three minutes later, Jackie was finished and sat down. Cameisha struggled to fit what was too much stuff into not enough space.
"You can use some of my drawers’ cuz my stuff uhh…" Jackie offered struggling with an excuse for not having shit.
"Ok thanks!" Cameisha cheered. She liked the timid girl at that moment, but it wouldn't last long.
Chapter 3
Atlanta College was in a word, turned the fuck up. Just like most colleges across the country it was packed to the gills with over sexed teens on their own for the first time in their short lives. Once music, drugs and alcohol were stirred into the mix, most would lose their damn minds.
A good fourth of incoming freshman would not become sophomores, for a variety of reasons. Since more than mere attendance was required to pass, the slackers would fail. Quite a few would end up pregnant and drop out to go struggle with unwanted children. Some were going to die. It was inevitable that some would get murdered and there would be a suicide or two. Not to mention drug overdoses and alcohol poisonings. Some dumb ass rapper made it cool to sip cough syrup and kids were putting themselves to sleep forever like unwanted dogs at the pound. They came with book bags and went home in body bags.
