{8PM. Roronora City.Evening before "the Invasion"}
Dom, still with his injuries from his school fight, is at the door of his empty apartnt ho, backpack dropped.
Two police officers, one black and one white on the other side.
W.Officer: "Are you sure you’ll be okay, young man? Will your mom or dad be ho soon?"
Dom shakes his head and is giving the cops a cold shoulder.
Dom: "I’ll be fine. I’m used to being ho alone. My Pops works 2nd and 3rd shifts until 6 in the morning and if you guys ever find my mother, can you tell her both of the n she abandoned, think she’s a bitch and a coward. Then can you throw her and that racist store owner in jail for ?"
B.Officer : "I wish we could, son. We’re sorry for what you had to go through this afternoon. Please understand we had to take you back to the station for help to find your friends killers. Get so sleep and stay ho from school tomorrow. For your own ntal health."
Dom still unfazed by the sincere suggestion isn’t making eye contact.
Dom: "Thanks."
W. Officer: "If you don’t mind asking, Buddy, why are you all beat up? If your father is never ho while you are, and your mother is an unfit dead beat, are you getting bullied at s-"
Dom cuts the officer off in anger, finally looking in their direction.
Dom: "I don’t get bullied, I fight back! I got jumped by a pack of punks at school today not an hour before my best and my only friends, got gunned down, all because of ignorance!"
The cop gestures for the distraught high schooler to calm down.
W.Officer: "I’m sorry I asked. Well, if you’re ever in need, from now on, we’ll be keeping watch around the school and that area of the shooting when school lets out."
Dom grips the door tighter.
B.Officer: "Don’t worry, you won’t need to ’snitch’, just keep your nose clean kid. Of both cri and your own blood."
Dom: "Okay."
They both turn to walk down the apartnt steps.
B.Officer: "Have a good night Buddy."
Dom shuts the door and stands in the darkness, by himself, in silence. His teeth clenched, he punches himself in the face and tears fall to the floor.
Dom: "You ’SHOULD’ have been there to begin with. Pigs, thinking they’re doing sothing after my friends are already dead."
The depressed fifteen year old shuffles into his kitchen, opens the freezer and pulls out a frozen dinner. He unboxes the al tosses it in the microwave and notices the microwave tir isn’t on. He checks the back to see if it’s plugged in, it is. He then checks the light switch. No light.
Dom gives a disheartened sigh.
Dom: "The old fart is too busy getting drunk to pay the electric bill to the landlord. I wonder if the shower will even have hot water."
He pulls out his phone and texts his father, "The milk will go bad if the refrigerator doesn’t get electricity."
He hits send and puts his phone in his pocket.
The young man lights a candle and makes a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in the dim light. With the candle in one hand, he eats the sandwich while walking through the dark dining room to a cabinet with 2 towels, grey and black. He tosses the black towel over his shoulder before entering the bathroom and closes the door behind him.
From the dark dining room, the water can be heard turning on with the sounds of clothes hitting the other side of the door. After a few seconds Dom can be heard, clearly upset.
Dom: "God. Damn. It!"
He quickly washes in the cold water and turns off the shower. He walks out of the bathroom, basketball shorts and no shirt. His dirty, blood stained clothes in his hand.
He’s looking at his phone, scrolling through pictures of his deceased twin friends. The collection of pictures has him with one of them individually or all 3 of them together.
Different places, tis of day, and mories.
Dom(thinking): *Ever since I can rember, I was hated by most kids for being too ’overconfident’ and ’loud mouthed’ whenever soone tested the ’manhood’ that my hardworking father entrusted to protect and continue being proud of. Sotis I think...actually, I ’know’ my mother abandoned my father and , because I was probably a loud and annoying baby. ’Usually it’s the other way around’, people say. Usually, it’s the father that leaves the mother to live life as a single parent. For a mother to have a child, a human life, physically grow for 9 months, inside of her. Go through the pains of labor, and still not care for her baby’s well-being is more than just selfishness. She’s ntally ill’.*
He walks into his room, tosses his clothes adding to the weeks’ pile on the floor, and lays on his bed.
Empty bowls stacked on his side table and cups still full of liquid.
He swipes to a picture of Morgan and himself 2 years younger, in the gymnasium with a basketball.
Dominic talks to himself and smiles while reminiscing about Morgan and Patrice. The cherished mories in his mind play like a crystal clear video.
Dom: *I t ’Captain Morg’ freshman year during the first gym period. The first few gym classes are just free periods and we could play basketball around on the courts or toss around footballs outside, if it wasn’t raining. He saw taking 3’s by myself and he challenged to a one on one. The way he taught how two people can play caught off guard.
’Ga to 21’, 3s are 2s, 2’s are 1’s. If you make it, you get to shoot free throws until you miss or make 5 in a row.’
He absolutely ’tooled’ the first ga.
22-1.
The cocky son of a bitch even ended it on a half court ’2 pointer’ AND called ’boards’ on the bank shot off the backboard.
Over ti his dialect, and what my old school Pops refers to as ’ebonics’, grew on from the different ways of phrasing things and the creativity within. Every single one of his friends made fun of , but then that pride my father gave exploded and I bounced the ball towards him. Morgan was surprised by the force of the checked ball and then we gave each other competitive glares, with smiles.
Our gym class was the last period of the day. The school allowed athletic recreational activities on the premises after school. That’s a fortunate thing, because our second ga to 21, lasted 2 hours.
We both played heavy defense and both of our prides as n were on the line. By the end of the two hours the score was 21-3. The rule is, winner must hit a ’2’ to make 21. But my relentless defense and energy made the ga mode without a ti limit, a battle of attrition. Which is the ultimate test for true competitors.
All of Morgan’s friends had left over an hour before the ending shot. He gave a handshake into a one ard hug.*
Morgan: "We’re ’boys’ from now on. If anyone fucks with you, let em know you ride with . I’m gonna be soone whose na will be all over TV."
Dom is looking at the live local news report on his phone, showing the young faces of his two murdered friends, with their nas underneath.
Dom(thinking): *Then when I saw Patrice, I thought it was just Morgan with glasses and without his cool shiny studs in his ears. Thinking back, they must’ve been used to the misunderstandings by how well he played along, until the real Morgan showed up and explained through laughing tears."
Dom’s smile then goes to grimace.
Dom(thinking): *Patrice was a genius. Not only academically but philosophically. He would have punks at school, pick on him daily. I would always help try fighting them off. When we would eventually get our asses kicked, Patrice would ask to never tell his brother.*
Patrice: "Morgan is so athletically gifted, he’s already getting scouted by D1 schools for basketball AND football. Unfortunately, in our ssed up world Dom, even if it’s for a justifiable reason, there would be no winning. If Morgan, a black man, had beat those guys asses. He would be ridiculed more harshly by outsiders who don’t know him, just because of his skin color.
But, the coaches scouting him wouldn’t be at fault either, they would have to question whether or not they’re wasting a scholarship on soone who is habitually violent. People live disregarding the ’Why’ to the most dramatic situations and not the ’Point of View’, the reported news can’t replicate."
Dom falls asleep thinking of his happy and cherished mories with his "gone too soon" pals.
...
...
...
Forgetting about the candle he left on top of his closed toilet. The lit candle, right underneath the black towel hung on the rack, underneath the open window.
The "alien snow" already lightly falling through the window above the towel as it catches fire.
User Comments
0 comments from readers