A Child of a CRACKHEAD II (2 page)

You got me right. You know I don’t have any money,” she stated.

“You always go with me, Rachel, even if you had paper. It’s no good here when I used to work under Caesar and Ace for Black Ice they made sure my money was right and I was good. So here I’m giving you ten dimes just come back when you’re done.”

“Oh shit really? Thank you,” Rachel said while taking the crack and then walked away.

Michael couldn’t believe his eyes. When he first heard the voice, he already knew that was her and then seeing her brought tears to his eyes. It’s been a month since he seen her. “Mommy, I have to get her alone and talk to her,” he said to himself as he slowly followed her to an old, all broken down house not too far from Momma’s place. He watched her walk in, “This is where you are? I’ll come back and get you, but first there’s something I have to do,” he said out loud to himself as he turned around and walked back into the shadows of the night.

“Take this crack bitch and tell your daughter I want to bust a nut tonight and to bring her ass over here if she want you to get high. Ain’t shit free over here,” the young thug yelled as he watched the older woman walk away.

“You give my mother crack and making her sick punk.” The young thug heard the voice yell and he turned around and looked into the alleyway to see a young boy stepping out of it with a machete in his hands. He looked at the young boy up and down and laughed. “Ha ha ha ha ha ha, listen little nigga, first of all, my name is Razor. And I’ll sell crack to your mother, your father, and grandmother if they come through for it. And make your mother suck my dick if I feel like it and you can’t do shit about it with your big old knife. Don’t you know a knife can’t win a gun fight?” Razor said with a smile on his face as he pulled out a 9 mm Luger and aimed it at Michael’s head.

“Don’t talk about my mother like that,”

Michael said as he walked closer. As he stepped more out of the darkness, Razor could see his face now and see the tears. He was about to laugh, but as he seen Michael’s eyes a chill went through his body as if he seen those eyes before, evil of the devil. “Go on and shoot, I have nothing to live for.

If you’re out here getting my mother high, she’s all I have,” Michael said as he stepped closer.

“Stay right there or I’ll kill your ass right where you stand. Who your mother and father?”

Razor asked. He hesitated on squeezing the trigger to his gun. He believed in shooting first and asks questions later. The fact was this young boy was on his block acting up was even more reason to kill him and knowing he could get away with it, but there was something about the young boy in front of him, “Oh shit! You’re Black Ice’s son,” Razor yelled as he squeezed the trigger to 9mm luger.

Michael noticed that razor was left handed and he was now close enough to him to get one good swing with the machete. When he seen Razor squeeze the trigger, he moved to the side making the bullet just miss him as he swung with all his might. The machete came down on Razor’s wrist ripping through the meat and bone, “Aahhaahah!”

Razor screamed in pain as he looked down at his hand with the gun in it, hanging only by a piece of skin. Michael swung again chopping his hand completely off. “Ahhhahhh, my hand! You cut off my fucking hand!” Razor screamed in pain while crying while blood gushed out of his wrists.

Michael stood there with an evil smile on his face and watched. “That’s for selling drugs to my mother punk.” Razor bent over in excruciating pain. He held his wrist, but it did nothing to stop the blood from pumping fast out of him. Out of no where Razor rushed Michael and ran into him with all his body weight sending Michael to the ground and knocked the machete out of his hand. Michael looked up in shock as he seen Razor pick up a gun with his right hand and pressed what was left of his left hand to his stomach, “You fucking punk. I’m going to kill your ass. You chopped off my damn hand.”

Before Razor could squeeze the trigger of his 9 mm, Boom! A shot was fired. He dropped to his knees to see Michael holding a now smoking 3.80 caliber handgun. “Ahhahah, you little punk,”

Razor whispered as he fell face first. Michael stood up breathing hard and picked up the machete and walked over to Razor and turned him around.

Razor lay on his back with blood dripping out of his mouth and oozing out of his stomach where Michael had shot him. “You’ll never be able to sell crack to my mother again asshole,” he yelled as he swung the machete and chopped off Razor’s right hand. “Ahhhhhh!” Razor screamed. Michael picked up Razor’s cut off hand. Satisfied with his work he stuffed his hand in the book bag along with the machete and gun. “Now die slow like a crack head.”

“You selling too,” were the last words Razor heard as Michael walked away into the shadows.

He walked back down the block and cut over and down three more blocks to the crack house where he found his mother sitting on the steps crying.

“I knew you were here, baby. I felt you.

So, I waited. I knew you come for me you always do. I’m sorry, baby, it was calling to me. I couldn’t help myself.”

Michael took his hand and wiped his mother’s tears, “Don’t cry mommy. Its okay, but you have to stay strong for us. You have been doing good for so long. You don’t need that stuff, mommy. Let’s go home and stay strong together, mommy.”

“Okay baby, you say the deepest things for your age.” Michael grabbed his mother’s hand and they made their way back to the train station and went home to New Jersey.

As Razor lay on the ground bleeding to death, he seen a man walk into the alleyway and stood right over him. “I did what you told me to man. I gave her free crack every time she came.

Please, please help me,” he said as he choked on his own blood.

The man looked at Razor and smiled his devilish grin. “Yes! Yes, you did everything I needed you to do, Razor. And you dying was part of it,” the man said and laughed as he bent down and pulled out a knife that curved at the tip and cut Razor’s neck from ear to ear. Then picked up his chopped off left hand and cut off the pinky finger and dropped the hand. “You won’t be needing these anymore. Hahahaha,” he laughed as he crept into the night.

Chapter 3

Michael snapped back to reality as he walked into his mother’s house. He walked down the hall and found his mother sitting on the couch with Janet in the living room talking about God.

Ever since Michael had found her that day in Brooklyn, she turned her whole life to God going to church on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Sundays.

“Janet, God is good I’m telling you. He took away my nightmares. You just keep praying and he’ll take yours away too.”

“I know your right, Rachel, but I can’t stop dreaming of that day. I keep seeing Black Ice’s face every night,” Janet said as tears rolled down her face, “It’s been ten years and I still can see him shoot Jay in the chest.”

“Hi mom. Hi Janet,” Michael said as he walked deeper into the room causing both ladies to stop their conversation and looked up at him smiling. At nineteen years old, Michael junior was 6’2” tall and weighed 200 pounds of all muscles.

With his sexy dark skin complexion, he was a spitting image of his father, but was his mother loving smile at heart. At thirty nine, his mother still looked like she was in her early twenties. Her light skinned complexion glowed. She took very good care of herself. Janet was only three years younger, both women were beyond gorgeous. They could have any man they wanted, but was deeply in love with God and used that as a way to escape the pain they been through in their life.

“Junior, where have you been? Don’t even answer that, I already know. You was in Brooklyn, again.”

“Yes mom, for some reason I feel at home out there,” Michael replied. “Junior, if you want to go to college at Long Island University in downtown Brooklyn for human services, I’ll let you go. Well, I couldn’t stop you if I wanted to, but I don’t want you hanging out in Brooklyn. It’s a bad place for us.”

“No mom, Brooklyn isn’t bad. We can’t blame Brooklyn because of Black Ice,” Michael stated.

“Boy, you’re hard headed just like your father,” as soon as she said those words, Michael’s face tightened. One thing he hated was to be compared to his father.

“I’m nothing like him!” Michael yelled back.

“I love you, baby, but yes you are. You have too much of him in you. I can see it. Janet can see it too. You have his cold evil eyes. The devils in you, baby,” just then Rachel got up off the couch with a small bottle of holy water in her hand and she poured a few drops on her finger tips and touched his head and held it. “Devil, I repeat to leave my Son. Devil, you have no power over his body and soul. He is a child of God and belongs to him.”

“Okay mama, the devil isn’t in me. I don’t know why you always got to do this. This is the reason I don’t come home. You and Janet look at me as if I’m fucking Black Ice. I’m not him and never will be like him.” Michael yelled as he walked upstairs to his room, “Damn, this is why I barely stay here. I love the shit out of my moms and Janet, but ever since they found God it’s like I’m in the wrong. The son should not get punished for his father sins,” Michael said out loud to himself, “I made up my mind I’m moving out this week. I can’t deal with the stress.” Michael lay in his bed and pulled out his sidekick and called his girlfriend.

Envy picked up on the first ring. “Hey baby, what’s going on?” Envy asked.

“Everything baby, shit is crazy. I love my mom’s to death, but I can’t keep having her and Janet look at me as if I am like Black Ice.”

“But Michael, the whole world will always look at you as if you’re like your father. It’s up to you to prove them wrong, baby.”

“Yeah, you right baby, as always. But, I think I’m moving out this week. My mom’s still don’t know about the house my father left me,”

Michael said not telling her about the other house Black Ice had left him in Flatbush.

Michael had been with Envy for two years now. They met in school and for both of them it was love at first sight. Envy was thick in all the right spots and her fashion sense was like no other Michael had ever seen. She was always dressed to impress no matter where she was going. She matched from head to toe and had a shoe fetish.

With one look at Michael’s dark skin complexion, muscular frame, and his sexy smile, they hit it off right away.

“So, Michael you’re willing to move in that house knowing they never found your father’s body.

Are you crazy, baby?”

“Naw boo, I’m not scared or worried about it. I’m not the same boy he used to be beat and torture. I’m a man now,” Michael said as he touched his waist and felt two chrome 45 handguns that were there and smiled a devilish grin.

“I believe in you, Michael, so do what you see fit.”

“I will baby. I will.”

Chapter 4

Across town in Brownsville Brooklyn, four couples walked down the street to the twenty four hour store at lam. “I’m crazy ass drunk,” one of the women said as her man held her waist. They never even noticed a big black van following them. Four men got out and walked behind them. One of the couples man turned around, “Oh shit, that look like Black…ahhhhh,” before the man could get the name out his mouth a bullet tore the top of his head off tossing him backwards as blood flew on his girlfriend.

The three other couples turned around and all began to scream and yell as they looked at their dead friend’s brains spattered all around the concrete. They looked up to see the four men with guns aimed at them and took off running and screaming. The first shot was at one of the men in the back of his head and the bullet came out of his forehead between his eyes and bullets violently ripped and tore through the other two men’s bodies.

Body parts went flying everywhere along with blood.

“Hurry up and grab the women,” one of the gunmen ordered.

“Yes boss,” the three gunmen yelled simultaneously.

Two of the girls got grabbed really fast in a choke hold from the back. The gunmen held their mouths and pulled them into the van and threw them in. The women kicked and screamed. Trying to get away, but it went in vain.

The next two women made it around the block, “I think we got away, Tiffany,” one of them said as they both bent over out of breath. Out of nowhere a fist came crashing into Tiffany’s face sending here flying to the ground. “Tiffany!!” her friend screamed as she watched her friend lay out with blood in her mouth on the concrete.

She looked up to see a big black man with a long scar on his face and a long gun pointed at her nose, “If you try and run again, I’m going to blow off your nose then shoot out your eyes. Do you understand me?”

The woman shook her head up and down as he grabbed her by the neck and one of the gunmen picked Tiffany up off the ground and threw her on to his shoulder as the black van spun around the block and pulled over. He tossed Tiffany in it while the man with the scar on his face dragged her friend by the neck and pushed her into the van.

Tiffany lay on the floor barely able to move.

When she opened her eyes, she was praying everything that happened was a dream. But knew it wasn’t when she saw her three friends’, Yasmin, Jesse, and Star crying.

“Good you’re ok,” Star said with tears running down her face.

“Yea, but my head is spinning. Where are we?” Tiffany asked.

“I don’t know where, except still in the van.

Those men kidnapped us and killed our boyfriends,”

Star replied causing all the women to break down crying hysterically.

“We have to stay strong,” Tiffany said to her friends to give them strength.

“No Tiff, you don’t know what I saw, or who I think I seen. That man that punched and knocked you out I think it could be Black Ice.” Star stated.

“What?” all the women said at the same time.

Everyone knew stories or heard rumors of Black Ice with the long scar on his face, no matter what age they were. Even knowing all four women were only in their early twenties.

The van stopped. “Oh shit, I’m scared, Tiff,” Star said as all four women hugged and held each other while crying.