‹ Prequel: To Be Loved
The Coolest
1/1
I lived for the money. Ever since the age of ten I was in love with the green of that paper. The gang member would give it to me and my friends when we needed to buy school supplies, my mom would scrape together a five for my birthday, and whenever I saw a shiny quarter on the ground I was in a good mood for the rest of the day.
Nothing was compared to bringing home that first payday. I never did that mess, the white stuff. It looked like dried toothpaste growing out the nose of my customers, and they always seemed so desperate. Four months into it and I was the only dealer you could see in half the city. I ruled my empire.
I knew how it was at eighteen. The violence desensitized me. I didn't see blood running down the streets or even the countless mothers and girlfriends' tears that drowned with it. I was out for me and the little brown-eyed girl that I kept safe. She wouldn't have this life. Diamonds and silver was all my baby girl deserved. It was too late for me. The best I could do was to keep my business out of jail and bullets from my body.
I rode around and aided the destruction of my city. I felt good, riding around in all the power. You can't stay at the top for long, but damn that view looked good. I made my enemies and I felt for sure they wouldn't come after me with my boys beside me.
I was waiting for Anton to come back with my cash. Parked outside the club, I knew he was probably flirting and drinking, not giving a damn about us outside. It was cold and my heater busted. I wasn't in a good mood.
It was Lil J who saw them first. Fifteen and sharp, the reasons I kept him beside me. He was young, fast and he got an eye. Pulling out my gun, I looked into the hazy dark awaiting the stolen car to pull up beside us.
Glaring, all of us started shooting each other. One of them went down first. I recognized one of the guys, Ricky, from my freshman class that I dropped out of. Quickly, a rain of bullets found his chest just as my boy Roy went down. I shot down another boy before seeing in the corner of my eye Lil J getting shot in the head.
Where was Anton? I couldn't help but think that as I caught the last bullet in my chest. The blood came down my chest like rain, staining the gold necklace my daughter made at school. I hit the ground hard, lacking the strength quickly to squeeze the trigger. I paid for my weakness. The last sound I heard was the firing of a gun, the smell cutting through the air.
When kids heard the news, I knew nothing would be said except for the parent's warning. I heard it too. They would tell my story with countless others, saying, "These are the tales of the cool, guaranteed to make you go and fail from your school and seek unholy grails like a fool and hang with the players of the pool." I lived and died by the words," Hustler for death, no heaven for a gangster."
I could've been a doctor. Instead, I settled for a closed casket.
Nothing was compared to bringing home that first payday. I never did that mess, the white stuff. It looked like dried toothpaste growing out the nose of my customers, and they always seemed so desperate. Four months into it and I was the only dealer you could see in half the city. I ruled my empire.
I knew how it was at eighteen. The violence desensitized me. I didn't see blood running down the streets or even the countless mothers and girlfriends' tears that drowned with it. I was out for me and the little brown-eyed girl that I kept safe. She wouldn't have this life. Diamonds and silver was all my baby girl deserved. It was too late for me. The best I could do was to keep my business out of jail and bullets from my body.
I rode around and aided the destruction of my city. I felt good, riding around in all the power. You can't stay at the top for long, but damn that view looked good. I made my enemies and I felt for sure they wouldn't come after me with my boys beside me.
I was waiting for Anton to come back with my cash. Parked outside the club, I knew he was probably flirting and drinking, not giving a damn about us outside. It was cold and my heater busted. I wasn't in a good mood.
It was Lil J who saw them first. Fifteen and sharp, the reasons I kept him beside me. He was young, fast and he got an eye. Pulling out my gun, I looked into the hazy dark awaiting the stolen car to pull up beside us.
Glaring, all of us started shooting each other. One of them went down first. I recognized one of the guys, Ricky, from my freshman class that I dropped out of. Quickly, a rain of bullets found his chest just as my boy Roy went down. I shot down another boy before seeing in the corner of my eye Lil J getting shot in the head.
Where was Anton? I couldn't help but think that as I caught the last bullet in my chest. The blood came down my chest like rain, staining the gold necklace my daughter made at school. I hit the ground hard, lacking the strength quickly to squeeze the trigger. I paid for my weakness. The last sound I heard was the firing of a gun, the smell cutting through the air.
When kids heard the news, I knew nothing would be said except for the parent's warning. I heard it too. They would tell my story with countless others, saying, "These are the tales of the cool, guaranteed to make you go and fail from your school and seek unholy grails like a fool and hang with the players of the pool." I lived and died by the words," Hustler for death, no heaven for a gangster."
I could've been a doctor. Instead, I settled for a closed casket.