MALI
I had been calling Symphony all night. The fact that she really blew a nigga off was bothering me.
I scrolled through my phone, staring at her picture as I pulled the whiskey bottle from my lips.
I exited my photos and dialed her number again; this time, it went straight to voicemail.
Did she ghost me? Had she only wanted sex and thrown a nigga to the side?
Or was I the delusional nigga that thought we had something?
I shot up from the couch, taking another swig of my liquid lover. I staggered upstairs to my room and started to rummage through my drawers. I picked up the one thing that had been taunting me for years and placed it in my pocket.
Another swig.
I made my way down the steps, snatched my keys, and stormed outside.
Another swig.
I dropped the empty bottle on the ground as I put the helmet on my head.
I started my bike and took off. I sped through the streets until I reached her crib.
The front desk worker stared at me curiously, but I didn’t give a fuck.
I grumbled as I passed by the desk to the elevator.
I squinted my eyes as my vision began to blur.
When I entered the elevator, I hit the floor I needed.
As the elevator ascended, I staggered, facing the mirror, Mali versus Mison.
“Fuck, you looking at, huh!” I shouted.
It was me versus me.
“You’re a drunk just like your father.”
“No! Nigga that’s you!” I clapped back.
The version of me I saw in the mirror wasn’t the same. My head turned slightly to the side. Was this nigga laughing at me?
“Fuck you! You're not real!” I shouted as my hands slammed against the mirror.
“I am. I’m you, the ugly version. I’m the nigga you created.
The one that didn’t save his mother. The one that doesn’t give a fuck about himself or his brothers, the nigga that’s deceiving a woman he’s been loving for years.
I’m the nigga with no heart. I’m denial, depression, anxiety, and failure. Nigga I’m you!”
Ding!
What the fuck was happening to me? I staggered down the hall as my body bounced from wall to wall. I tried to focus my eyes when I saw some nigga coming out of her place. “What the fuck?” I mumbled.
I pulled my gun from behind me and rushed down the hall. “Nigga why the fuck are you coming from her crib?”
One nigga turned into two, and I lost it. Before I knew it, my pistol was bashing that nigga’s head in, over and over.
“Mison!” I heard Symphony shout.
I turned and pointed at her. “Take yo ass back inside.”
I went back to work on his ass until the nigga stopped moving. I stood over his body as I turned toward Symphony’s door. “You fucking lied to me! You said you were going to see your pops, and you're in here with another nigga!”
She shoved me. “Are you out of your fucking mind! He was here fixing something. Mison, you have a problem. You think I don’t know, but I do! Nigga you better leave now!” she shouted.
I glanced back at the guy who was groaning.
I had fucked up. The words of Diamond replayed in my head.
On a good drinking day, no telling what you will do.
I felt sick, and I needed to get the fuck out of here.
I rushed back down the hall. This time, I took the stairs because I didn’t have it in me to face the man I had become.
As soon as I got out of the building, I gagged and then threw up.
I was losing my fucking mind. I hopped on my bike and took off. I needed someone, and there was only one person I knew who would actually listen.