MALI
Symphony blowing me off triggered me. Shit, we were going on a week, and today was the first day I saw her, only to have her act funny toward me.
I stood in front of my bike as I watched Symphony move around the store through the window.
How was I able to get her in my arms yet let her slip through my fingers so suddenly?
I knew if I stood in front of her store a minute longer, I was going to be on some dark shit.
I stuck my hand in my jacket pocket to grab my gloves when a folded-up paper touched my fingertips.
I pulled it out, only to find the pamphlet that Diamond had given me.
The mental battle started because this had to be a sign from God.
I stuffed the pamphlet back into my pocket, hopped on my bike and took off.
My life began playing in my head as I sped through the city.
From the first time my lips kissed the bottle, to not giving my mother CPR that night, to neglecting my brothers, allowing my issue to affect Jalen’s future, to the night I showed up at Symphony’s house, and having her necklace sitting in my drawer because I was too much of a coward to give it to her.
My friends barely fucked with me, and Chevy was on the verge of kicking me out of the Zoo.
I had nothing or no one in my corner, not even my brothers, but somehow, I was supposed to find sobriety.
Anger filled me as everything was hitting me at once.
The way my throat tingled for a drink made me feel like I was dehydrated, the way the shakes were taking over made me feel like an addict, and the way my mind was playing tricks on me only confirmed that a nigga was in denial and depressed.
I wanted the help I did, but I didn’t want to walk into this war alone.
I reached my destination in no time. I let out sharp breaths as I slid my helmet off after getting off my bike.
I eased my way to the door, opening it as slowly as possible.
As I entered the room, those who were in there stopped and stared. I felt out of place, like the awkward nigga, just as I was in high school. “Welcome. The power is in your hands,” a male said to me.
I didn’t want to be approached; I wanted to stand here and watch.
My eyes bounced on every person in the room.
I wasn’t like any of these people; I was different, wasn’t I?
This place was for those who had problems and couldn’t go a minute without the bottle.
My heart started to race, and I began to feel sick.
I wasn’t supposed to be here. The man went to say something, but I couldn’t.
My head shook as I backed out of the room.
“No, fuck no. I-I made a mistake,” I mumbled.
“The first step is taking accountability!” the man yelled as I ran out of the building.
As soon as I was outside, I sucked in a deep breath. Fuck! This shit was supposed to be easy. Everyone made help sound easy, but it wasn’t. I didn’t need strangers to get me off the bottle; this was something I was determined to figure out on my own.