𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐃™

Pp

Keshawn

I looked at myself, through the mirror, just gazing my appearance for the third time today. This shit was becoming a fuckin' habit.

My facial hair was growing out, dreads was hanging lower, and my cheeks were sunken like I didn't just devour my fuckin' plate up.

My teeth gritted rough enough to break, and my fists were balled before I smashed it into the glass, letting the shredded pieces cut through my skin.

"Is everything okay, Mr.Shawn?" Steve kept his distance while pointing out the blood on my hands.

"The fuck it look like to you, huh? Nigga you see me smiling assum'. You see me AH KEKE-ING?" I slammed the door, sticking to the thoughts I wanted gone.

I needed to erase that stupid ass kiss Kilon gave me. That nigga know I ain't gay. He know I don't fuckin' swing that way, but every-time I looked in the mirror; I seen otherwise.

"Tired of the bullshit," I spat, lighting up a wood and sticking it in my mouth.

I pulled some air into my lungs and held it as Steve reopened the door, making an entrance with Cashmere and Bibby.

"The problem is being taken care of, Mr.Shawn." Steve pulled down his sleeve, making sure there were no crinkles.

I finally released my breath and eyed him. "You sure, nigga? It won't lead back to my ass, right?"

Steve nodded, giving room for the others to enter. "I assure you, all the evidence is gone."

"Good," I breath, placing my attention to Episode 436, which was a news channel for the hoods. They weren't like CNN or FOX. They got straight to the point and interviewed real fuckin' niggas.

The station displayed hella houses and homes being knocked down. When you walk out on the streets, you won't find a damn corner store, school, or clinic out no more.

Fuckin' Withersons taking they anger out on the world because of they dead son. Didn't nobody care about Junior then, and don't nobody care about him now.

"You still thinking about what they said?" Cashmere asked, taking a whiff of my stick, almost chocking on it.

"Mhm." I kept my mouth shut. There wasn't a damn thing I needed to say especially after what I overheard at the grand opening

Ms. Withersons was talking to a couple of higher ups: they mayor, the city official, allem' niggas that actually control Hemsburrow. What they didn't know was that I lingered around they lil' scheme of a conversation.

When whispering, they explained that knocking down houses was the first step. They knew people would fight back, so that means they depended on their second step, which I believe is the kidnappings.

I knew it was more to they plan than just that. They had four major steps that had to take place to knock every nigga out this city. They wanted brand new residents.

"What you think they tryna do?" Cashmere watched the screen with me. Now, there was a live clip of people catching these new houses on fire.

"They finna up the murder rate," I scoffed, pointing at my window. "You know somebody broke into my shit and stole the foods out my cabinets? Niggas ain't come to play when providing fa' they families."