Ramelle #3
I didn’t have anything to say because I refused to defend my father. Who knew what he got into whenever he left the apartment for weeks at a time. All I knew was that he always came back with a little more money than he left with.
“Handle him then… the fuck you want me to do?”
“Nah, I’m gonna handle you… gotta teach that bitch a lesson for touching what doesn’t belong to him.”
My heart felt like it had stopped, as my eyes started to water. I was scared, and my hands started shaking inside of my pockets. Before he could get the next set of words out, I took off running down the block, coming out of my shoe because I never tied them.
Gran always fussed at me for never tying my shoe, and now I was finally seeing the consequence of my actions. I made it to the corner store and quickly ducked inside, my heart drumming on the inside of my ears.
Ock looked up from his phone. “Wassup, Melle?”
I didn’t respond, I ducked toward the freezers, hoping that they would leave me alone. My father’s business wasn’t mine. I refused to be roped into the shit with him.
The chimes sounded, as the door opened. “Fuck he at, Ock?”
He didn’t say anything, but I could feel his fear from back here. “I…I don’t know.”
“You don’t know where the lil’ nigga went?” I tried my best to hide, praying he would take his word for it, and leave me alone.
It got quiet and then he laughed. “Dumb fuck… I could see the whole store through this big ass disco mirror on the wall. Lil’ Melle, why you hiding?”
BLAOW BLAOW!
He had shot the store owner. My hands trembled so bad that I couldn’t move. I wanted to run, but I couldn’t bring myself to move from where I stood.
The store’s cat sprinted underneath the racks of snacks, as I held onto one. I could hear the sound of his shoes on the checkered linoleum floors.
He cocked the gun back again, and I wanted to melt away. When I was six, I was obsessed with being invisible. I would run around Gran or Auntie Sharon’s house and pretend that I was invisible. Goo used to play along with me, even letting me take the shenanigans outside.
He’d hold my hand and yell, “Where’s Melle at?” I always laughed and screamed I was next to him, but he played the game so good that I started to believe that I was invisible.
Right now, I wished I had Goo with me.
“Boo, Nigga.” He grabbed my shoulder and shoved me into the freezers. My back hit the handle of the freezer and I winced.
“Nigga pissing on himself,” another one laughed, as he pointed at my sweats being soiled in urine.
The main man didn’t give a damn about me pissing on myself. He stared at me with hate in his eyes. Those light brown eyes belonged to Satan with the way he stared at me.
“Please, I didn’t… I didn’t do nothing,” I pleaded with him, because I didn’t do anything. “I don’t wanna die, please, don’t kill me!” I cried, pleaded, and begged for my life.
I wanted to live.
Basketball was the end game for me. I was supposed to make it to the big league. Auntie Sharon joked that I was going to have us living large because I was so good. I wanted to attend basketball camp this summer, and Ken said he would pay for it because he believed in me.
“Yeah, often the innocent has to pay for the wicked… nothing personal.” He quickly pulled out his gun, and I thought quick on my feet.
I shoved past one of the other men and darted down the canned food aisle until I was out the store. Soon as I exited the store, I was snatched up and tossed against the ice chest out front.
The ice chest was a part of my everyday life. I passed it while going to catch the bus to school, sat on it while waiting for my food, and even had tagged my name on it when I was in my graffiti era.
I was being slammed against that same ice chest, as someone held their hands around my neck so I couldn’t breathe. The block was full, and I could see people stopping to watch.
“Aye, let his ass go. That’s a damn kid… he ain’t got shit to do with—” One of the men punched him in the mouth so hard that he fell back.
Blood poured from his lips, and he said something muffled, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying. My heart was beating so loud that I could hear it inside of my ear drums.
“Now why the fuck would you run, I was gonna let you go.” His tone told me that he was lying to me.
He wasn’t going to let me go. “Please.”
Knowing that he was lying to me, I wanted one last attempt at saving my own life. When he lifted that gun and stepped back some, I felt limp in the man’s arms. I had never been this close to a gun, and I never wanted to be.
The burning sensation started immediately, as I slid down the freezer. I could live from one bullet, right? Goo knew people who had been shot multiple times and still lived to talk about it.
I stared up at him, as he looked down at me like I was the scum of the earth. His finger massaged the trigger, and he pulled it again, and again. My body jerked, as the pain eventually started to feel like ice.
“Goo, please! I nee…”
It was cold.
I felt lighter, and then I saw light.
I wanted my mommy.
I wanted Goo.
I wanted to go to basketball camp this summer.
Don’t let me die, please.