"Wrong... again!" he sings. "Goddamn it, at this rate you'll never win the lottery! So, it's like this. When You were 14. Let me see, I ain't got a calculator, 40 – 14... I was... that can't be right. Damn, I can't do anything while high on Epiphany. Anyway! I hit Alex with my car, so I was supposed to be sleep and I wasn't and did some hood rat activity. That's fucked up! And you were all like," his voice is high pitch, damn near broking my eardrum, "No... my woman! It was so cute. But yeah, I killed that bitch and the dog was like, 'I hate you because you lied to me. It's funny that she calls me the puppet man, I like voodoo dolls, do you? Bars."
"What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"Call me a crackhead, I don't know. But say, I'll make a deal with you. IF YOU BRING YO ASS HERE. IMMA, TELL YOU MORE—I'm tired of using the mic, like I gotta pull the cord and the cord keeps getting stuck on shit."
I'm starting to think this is a prank. "What a minute. Let throw you some memory."
"What the fuck--"
A ball of airspeeds towards, it has the form of a face yelling... I can hear my name.
.
.
.
"What the fuck was that?" I wiped tears away from my face. "What are you doing to me!" Why am I crying so hard? "What did you do to me!"
I'm trembling, I can barely breathe. "This is how your mom feels with dementia?" headcount appears in the hall but he walks through me. "An illusion." I swing the pole at his back, I keep swinging. "Grandpa," he looks back at me. "It is I... Chauncey. Grandpa, Miles... July?" he smirks.
"What the fuck did you do?"
"I'm tired of doing this." he vanishes. "Am I doing too much?"
LENGO!
I hear shots coming from underground. My side is bleeding. "So, this world is terrible." I hear him in my right ear. He shows up on my left, the hallway stretches and expands. "I have a thing. Your mother has that stupid fucking jellyfish. And my son—Oh my god—that damn octopus!"
My back hurts, a warm liquid slides down my back. I cough up blood. "I had no desire to do anything. I used to be on drugs." I hear him above me...
"Your mother Childhood, helped me. I wanted to be saved. I could have gone to therapy but I didn't." My stomach ripples, the back of my head pounds. My cheek bruises and my nose begins to leak. "My son, my first born, Delagati. Did it. And I was like... could I do it? What would happen if I did? So had a thought." My stomach twist and I vomited on the floor. My vision is waving.
"Stop it!" I attempt to hollar. My throat is burning. "Calm down boy," I hear him in my left ear. "Your mascara is running." His voice is so hushed.
My back hits the wall and black juices stain my chest. I sink to the floor. "Why didn't you get the gun in the shop." He sits on the floor before me. His eyes are enlarged as if looking through a magnifying glass. "I can see everything. Why you crying child." He has a deep Haitian accent. His eyes are the color of a rainbow."
"Look at me, cher."
A tongue lashes out at my throat. "I am the God of Confusion. You should thank me." he lifts me up by my throat. Spinning me around and throwing me at the ground. My soul is burning.
I just want to rest. I don't want to move. I want to rest. What is happening? "The bible says do not listen to doubter. The Hood is all about lying." he licks his lips. "This shit is fun. I'm about to drive you niggas insane." My jaw breaks under an invisible weight. "I am your grandpa... you should thank me."
"You're not a fucking God!"
"Well, fuck me with a straw—if I can get away with it. I think I fucking might be nigga." I hear two voices. I hear three. Three turns into seven... I hear a choir. "I like puzzles. Mix and match."
I'm crying again. My name is///
"July Omehia Stitches." he points to his temple. "You got that. Cause I'm telling the truth."
He hovers his hand over me. I stand on my feet. "My son had a fucking vampire hole." He spins around me in circles. Everything is a blur. "That nigga was getting drunk. I mean, I was normal and doing human things..." titters while mocking a feminine tone. "I gave you the real memory."
"What did you give me..." black tears are running down my face. "The reality of it. "
He crosses his arms. "Like you and Wallie went through it. And the truck crashing with all those kids and you knew a spell to protect you and her. Y'all got history."
He vanishes. My heart is thumping, "You could be my thrall... or my body. Because this is the last my magic. My devil keeping my soul safe. So come on... I wanna see you strip." I aim at my feet, why is there blood on the floor?
Something creeps pass my legs; I turn around and shudder. A four-eyed crocodile with red beams eyes me. "You dumb." it gurgles. The air whistles around me, I hear a high pitch crackle. "July, my boy. Come to the basement!" I feel like I'm having a seizure. "Come and get healed."
I glimpse at my feet again; the crocodile is gone. Hooray. "Oh! Trigger!" yells grandpa from nowhere visible. "That's the name of a gangsta. A cold blooded vamp!"
"So..."
"Hooray! Sacrificed a bunch of niggas to the streets. He lived to be a good age."
"How long?" I'm so fucking sick! I feel my neck, was it an illusion? I swear I bled. He has a devil thing? "Check point!" I hear a bing. "Devil Things are servants. They come when asked. A confessional piece. So, I gave a confession. I like to fuck with people. I liked being high and IT asked me. Would I do it again? I said yes." He sounds like a preacher. "I went to church with my brother... after burying his ass."
"What?"
"Uh, umm, Uncle," he snaps his finger in a row. "Fuck, I got to stop drinking..." I hear him burp. "Excuse me, Seign!" I close my eyes. "Your uncle Seign is dead. So, this is what happened. I stabbed that nigga, talkin' about some 'I know what you're doing' and I'm like 'Fucking... mind yo business' who gives a fuck if he my oldest brother. And daddy dead. I didn't do that but my daddy told me about the old trap game. All you need is 9,999 souls." he sucks his teeth. "Before he died. He was like... tsk, killing made a monster out of me."
"You glutenous."
"AND?"
This is the most childish crackhead. "I got a bigger dick than you. Even tho my shit look like a giant tampon."
Get me the fuck out of here.
"July! JULIE!"
"What!"
"Suck my dick."
What an outstanding asshole. It sounds so farfetched but I'm thinking of doomed history. As in, what you don't learn you are doomed to repeat it. Is this nigga punishing sinners?
I WANT TO LEAVE! I don't want to do this bullshit no more. It comes to me; I did this for my mother. What the fuck have I been doing? My mother was lynched or is that a lie? "No," he sighs. "That's real. I did that."
"You mothafucka--"
"Wait, I can explain. See, your mom is hardy bitch, brave, strong. Now you think, she didn't give me no dick. So now I'm having roid rage or some shit. But no. Your mother is rapper and vampires are attuned to certain lyrics. So... More dumb shit. I cut her body up and I wanted to build an obedient bitch."
"AN OBEDIENT BITCH!?"
"She can write. She's a holy woman. But we don't praise her... her gift came after the bullshit, her torment. It was all over Virginian. Shit, niggas in New York heard it. Then my hypocritical son saved her ass. He must have felt big and strong. Got Gabriel's blessings. Me personally, I would have called Armageddon."
"So, what you think my mother's fucking nightmare of getting kidnapped and dragged for blessing cause humans don't know how to think."
"I'm not she a fucking genie but God himself, has angels for a reason. They do something for him."
"MY MOTHER IS NOT A SLAVE!!!"
.
.
The Lord is not tardy in keeping his word.
"Whoever calls on the name of the Lord will be saved," says the Bible.
For the penalty of sin is death, but God's gift is eternal life.
Because God is love, anyone who does not love does not know God.
But what about the cowardly, the faithless, the abhorrent, and murderers?
Dogs and sorcerers can be found outside.
killers and those who are sexually immoral
idolaters
that engage in deception.
.
.
"MY MOTHER IS NOT A SLAVE!!!"
"I know!" he rejoiced. "What the fuck I look like doing the same thing that nearly killed her. And, to add to the bullshit, she's like God's favorite. I just want to see what I could do with it. And I did. I didn't hurt Childhood—But--"
A force of magic comes through my feet. The world shakes and the red water splashes. "WHERE IS MY FUCKING MOTHER?"
How dare he be silent.
"Come to the basement."
The crocodile that was near suffered to the top, upside down. I keep thinking about my purpose the reason why I did it all. My mother got hung.
I had a premonition. She was hanging and I yelled, 'Mama climb the rope.' Her neck broke with her own weight. She was so swollen in the body, her lips blue and chapped.
"What is this?" My mother weighs 230 pounds. She's a curvaceous woman like an opera singer. Where is all this coming from. Fuck it! Where's the basement?
.
.
.
The ambiance of dripping, a flowing drain, and splashing. The stairs spiral downwards. It's dark with a red mist covering my eyes. There's a whisper in the air. 'we' 'ambitions' and 'serve him'.
I take my time. That's what I have been doing. Wisp past my shoulders. Aleigha?
A vision shows in front of my mind's eye. 'Revenge'
He looks just like me but darker. He has a gold chain around his neck. He's yelling at the streets. 'All you do is take from me! Bring her back! You lied! You lied!'
He lost his mother; did he take mine? I'm confused.
Several more wisps pass me. The vision changes. 'I run the damn streets. I feed on the blood of a thousand. You took from me, my happiness! You owe me!'
He went against the beast from the ground.
Another.
'Blind.'
'I am not blind. It's just concrete. You don't control me!" Aleigha appears resting on a bench. Curled up with his pants torn. I can feel the temperature.
What am I seeing?
'This is a sin. You should be thankful.'
'I gave you what you wanted and you took from me! My mother is dead and souless. Give me her body!"
What happened? A yelling spirit passes my ear.
'How much money do you want?'
'How much can you give me?'
'Saint... enough is enough...'
A vision of hands shaking. Saint John has these long claws and a cracked blue ring on his middle finger. Another change, his legs are dangling. Chains lash out at him. 'Obey! Bring me blood of the million'
The chains choke Saint John, putting a print around his neck. 'Foolish one.' the chains throw him against a tree. 'As you walk on me, I know this street life isn't for you.'
'Fuck you!' John Rants. He pulls a gun out of his pocket. He aims it, I can't see what, the gun twist in his hands. Aiming at his face, he can't turn it around. I hear a blast in my right ear, I wince at the pain.
Tears escape my eyes but I'm not sad.
I stumble coursing the stairs. A sharp pain goes through my chest. I scream and blood pours out. My blood is still stygian.
'The rich red water that flows. The circle of life.'
This voice is revolting. A disembodied, raucous voice.
One more vision.
'I invited you into my home. A home away from trouble. You forshook me. So, now I will take you into the wild of your sins.'
My feet meet the bottom. A great basin catching two following pipes on the side. What a poor sewage system. "Finally!" Headcount claps. His long cornrows slap the water. In the darkness, I see an outline of a devilish outline. Two immense multicolored orbs sitting on the bridge of a flat front.
The tail is curled against its legs. Its hutched back has a set of quivering spikes. It hisses.
"Now give me your fucking body." His braids dance around him. He's just sitting in a pool of dead bodies and organs. Looking at the ground, clothes are littered about or torn to shreds. "What is your purpose?"
"Servitude." he waves a cup of blood. "I know. I'm nigger." He bends his head back taking blood down his throat. He smacks his lips. "I'll you something... blood is terrible. But it's life. However, bone marrow makes blood in the body you just can't suck it out of a neck." he takes another swig. "New Vampire shit." Headcount snaps his fingers. "Most nigga's is just weird. I like chitlins," he shrugs. "And booty, bitches, brooze. What else—I'm greedy. So, when V came out--"
"Are you drunk?"
"What? Nah!" he swirls his glass in his right hand. "I like blood and drugs. Look at my sexy ass, I ate a bitch," he looks around the pool. "Several. I never ate a titty; I just suck it. It's like a balloon."
"What is wrong with you?"
"Louisiana is near the water, right. So, my kid and fucking—I just remembered, Psi-mut. My kids plus him, got this map. It was a fucking portal." he swallowed, "And we got half the Bayou."
"And?"
"Most of Louisiana..." he grins widely, "Also we took Houston, just because. But my son was like, don't do that. So I shot him."
He shot his son for more land. "So you doing this for Louisiana?"
"NO! Dumbass. I already said it, I wanna do it; just to see the world fucking break." He stands up. I turn my head at his dangling member. What the fuck."
"I can keep doing it as long as I want—but really as long as praise a cockroach... beast thing. But whatever, I got magic. And all the life I need."
"You ain't got good sense." I have nothing. I know, and I don't want it. "How about magic?"
"You know damn well I can't."
"What? But you can—You could but I got a guardian. The power of word, you pretty handicap. I mean you been using the bare minimum of magic... also. No charms.
We just stand there all romantic and shit. This nigga's dick hanging freely, covered in blood. "Take it." I don't know what to do.
"Surely. Fais moi un câlin." he stretches out his hand. I spread my arms. I don't know what to do.
The beast's tail quivers, it opens its jaw. Its tongue slithers out. "grand ouvert
Souls rush out the chameleon mouth. I don't know what to do.
They circle me and my ears fill with whispers. My body is tight, my muscles twitch. I peer at Chauncey, he's smiling. Stepping out of the bath so casually. His eyes are pink and black wings emerge from his back.
I don't know what to do.
He holds both sides of my face. He put his forehead against mine.
I don't know what to do.
"All praise..."
My back breaks backward as the souls flood into my jaw. My body is cold then warm and cold again.
I don't know what to do.
People flash behind my eyes. Experience is walking down the hallway with a book in her hand. I can read her thoughts. 'I hate this ghytto ass school.' There are two people fornicating against the brown lockers.
She speeds walks pass them. It flashes to an image, Experience is against the toilet, bleeding from her mouth. There are several bullet holes in her body. 'I died again.'
I don't know what to do.