by Tranay Adams
“You got it, lil’ man,” Scrappy smiled behind her bandana and dapped up her son. She then ruffled his head playfully and looked to Kesha. “How about chu, lil’ momma? What kinda pizza would you like?”
Kesha wiped her dripping eyes with the back of her fists, sniffling. She then looked up at her mother with a shiny wet face, saying, “Cheese-I’d like a cheese pizza, mommy. And Rainbow Sherbert ice cream.”
“How many scoops, baby girl?” she held her chin up with her curled finger, as she looked into her saddened eyes.
“Two.” Kesha held up two fingers.
“Two scoops it is.” Scrappy assured her. She then hugged and kissed her kids. Next, she looked herself over in the rearview mirror to make sure she couldn’t be identified under her disguise. Once she came to the conclusion that no one would be able to identify her, she grabbed her shotgun and hopped out of the car. She shut the driver’s door quietly and held the shotgun low, like it was a hockey stick. Keeping her weapon low, she looked back and forth over her shoulder to make sure there wasn’t any nosy mothafuckaz out that could witness her handle her business.
Once Scrappy saw that the coast was clear, she entered Chevy’s yard and hunched down. She made her way alongside the house until she entered the backyard. Once she made it upon the door of the back porch, she picked the lock and made her way inside as quietly as possible. The house was dark except for the light that the stove provided above. Still holding the shotgun low, she made her way past the stove, passing the living room and entering the hallway. Scrappy heard shower water running, so she pushed the bathroom door opened quietly. When she did, she met the heat from the steam of the shower and saw a woman’s silhouette behind the shower curtain, as she washed up.
Scrappy pulled her bandana down from the lower half of her face so that Chevy could see exactly who it was giving her the business. She then crept over to the tub and snatched the shower curtain back. A startled Chevy whipped around. Her hair was slicked back and her naked body was shiny with wetness. Her eyes nearly leaped out of her head and her mouth hung open, seeing the woman she’d threw hands with at Savon’s execution.
Scrappy’s face balled up with animosity. Lifting her shotgun, she took a step back from the bathtub and said, “Remember me, bitch? This is for Tiaz!”
Bloom!
The first blast smacked Chevy up against the tiled wall, splattering her blood against it. The back of her head and body deflected off the wall, but a second blast forced her back up against it. She slid down in the tub dead, leaving a bloody smear behind her on the wall. The hot shower water continued to run, washing off some of the blood smeared on the wall.
Scrappy observed her handiwork for a moment before coming out of the bathroom. As she was stepping out into the hallway, the door of the master bedroom was opening and Faison was coming out with a fat ass .357 Magnum revolver. Once he saw Scrappy with the shotgun, he knew what time it was so he tried to blow her head off.
Blam! Blam! Blam!
Scrappy pulled her head back inside of the bathroom, narrowly missing getting her head knocked off. She stuck her shotgun out of the doorway and around the corner, blasting. A lucky shot caught Faizon in the chest. His eyes became as big as golf balls and his mouth open. He looked down and saw blood pouring out of his chest. Once he croaked in pain, Scrappy knew she’d gotten him.
With Faison at her mercy, Scrappy decided that now was the best time to capitalize off of the situation. She racked her shotgun and swung out into the hallway, pulling the trigger. The report from the powerful weapon was loud and dangerous.
“Aaaah!” Faison hollered out in agony, feeling fire rip through his chest again as he was propelled backwards. He fell against the side of the doorway and fired his revlver at Scrappy, missing her. Sliding down to the carpeted floor, Faison fired off one more shot before dropping the hand holding the .357 beside him. His head fell back against the doorway. His eyes were stretched wide open and his jaw was slack. He was dead.
Scrappy approached Faison cautiously and placed two fingers to his neck, checking his pulse. As soon as she confirmed that he was dead, she heard the other bedroom door creak open. Swiftly, Scrappy turned around ready to send some hot shit through a nigga’z chest. She lowered her shotgun once she saw a young Te’Qui standing in the other bedroom’s doorway. She felt sorry for him when his eyes landed on his slain father. She could see the heartbreak and tears building in his eyes. Instantly, the grief written across his face changed to one of bitterness and hatred. His nose scrunched up and he balled his hands into fists. Acknowledging the hostility in his face, Scrappy braced the stock of the shotgun against her shoulder and aimed the weapon’s barrel at the youth’s chest. Her mind played tricks on her as she hesitated to pull the trigger, seeing Te’Qui morph back and forth between her children.
Realizing that she couldn’t bring herself to take the life of a child, Scrappy lowered her shotgun at her side and pulled the bandana up over the lower half of her face. She then rushed into the living room, through the kitchen and out of the back door. She jumped down into the lawn of the backyard and ran along the side of the house. Having cleared the yard, she ran across the street towards her car. Reaching the curb, she deposited the shotgun inside of the gutter and reached for the door handle of her vehicle.
Blam!
Scrappy’s chest exploded and her blood splattered against the driver’s window. T.J. and Kesha’s eyes grew big and their mouths formed O’s. They couldn’t believe their innocent eyes. Their mother had been popped in front of them. They observed their mother whip around to where the shot had come from, only to get popped in the chest two more times. Her blood dotted the side of her car and she dropped to the sidewalk. As soon as she did, she revealed Te’Qui standing behind her. His eyebrows were slanted and he was biting down on his bottom lip. His father’s .357 Magnum revolver was pointed at Scrappy’s car, as its barrel wafted with smoke.
Te’Qui lowered the .357 and stood beside Scrappy, looking down at her. Horror was etched across her face as she stared up at him, accusingly. She tried to say something to him, but she only managed to choke and gag on her own blood.
“Mommyyyyyy!” Kesha called out to her mother. She and T.J. jumped out of the car and rushed to Scrappy’s side. They stood on either side of her and held her bloody hands. Scrappy smiled weakly for them, but she ended up coughing up blood. T.J. and Kesha’s faces were slicked wet from crying. They’d lost their father, and now they were losing their mother. “Mommy, please dont die, please don’t leave us. We love you.”
“You can’t die, momma. We love you so much. What would we do without you?” T.J. asked as he used his blood stained hand to wipe away his dripping tears. He sniffled and more tears seemed to flood his cheeks.
“It’s-it’s okay, mommy’s babies, I’m going on to a better place,” Scrappy claimed. “I’m going to heaven.”
“Is that the same place that daddy went to?” Kesha asked innocently. When Tiaz was murdered in jail, Scrappy had told her and her brother that he died and went to heaven. That heaven was a beautiful place. And only the specialist of people went there.
“Y-yes, baby. That’s-that’s-,” Scrappy winced as she coughed up more blood. “That’s where daddy is, and I’m going to be with ‘em. And if you’re-you’re good down here, then-then you and your brother can come there with us, too.”
By this time, T.J. and Kesha were sobbing hard, scared to death that they were going to lose their mother.
Twelve’s sirens filled the air, but Te’Qui hadn’t budged. He stood there holding his banga and watching Scrappy spend her last moments with her children.
“You promise, mommy?” Kesha asked her mother.
Scrappy placed her bloody hand against the side of her daughter’s face and smiled weakly. “Yes, baby girl, I promise.”
“I don’t want chu to die, momma. I want chu to live forever and ever. Please, don’t go.” T.J. whimpered. His mother looked to him and rubbed the side of her face, leaving a bloody
hand impression behind. She smiled at him as well.
“I’m sorry, baby boy...” Scrappy eyes rolled to their whites and her head dropped to the pavement. She expelled her last breath through her wide open mouth and her body went still.
“Momma? Momma?” T.J. shook his mother harder and harder, trying to get her to respond but it was already too late. She was gone.
“Mommy, wake up! Wake up, please!” Kesha shook her mother alongside her brother, but she wasn’t moving.
At this time, Twelve was pulling up back to back. The red and blue flashing lights of their vehicles illuminated Te’Qui, T.J. and Kesha. The doors of the police cars popped open and the cops hopped out, drawing their guns on Te’Qui. They ordered him to throw down his revolver and he obliged. Afterwards, one of the cops moved in to handcuff him. Te’Qui was placed into the back of one of the police cars. He watched as the coroners came and took Scrappy’s body away. He looked to her children and found T.J. mad dogging him, tears streaming down his cheeks. His eyebrows were arched and his nostrils were flaring.
“I’m gonna kill you, you hear me? Huh, do you fucking hear me? You’re dead! You’re fucking dead!” T.J. hollered out to Te’Qui. He tried to run over to him but the cops restrained him. “Limme go, limme the fuck go, you bastards!” he struggled to break free from the police officers’ arms, but their hold was like steel. Eventually, T.J. got tired of trying to fight the cops off and went limp in their arms. He broke down sobbing and crying, teardrops splashing on the street.
“It’s going to be okay, son. It’s going to be okay.” One of the police officers assured him.
“So, this is what this is all about, huh? Some get-back for me poppin’ yo’ moms when the bitch peeled my momma and my daddy? Nigga, fuck you and her! I’ll spit on that hoe’s grave!” Te’Qui spat at T.J.’s feet, still holding his wound. His entire hand was bloody now. He was sweating profusely and had turned pale.
T.J. looked at him smiling devilishly, resembling Satan. “I feel you, now feel this!” He pointed his gun at Te’Qui’s forehead as he mad dogged him, waiting for his fate to be sealed.
Choot!
T.J.’s eyes bulged and his mouth dropped open. A surprised look spread across his face, and he slowly turned around. He was shocked to see Kesha standing behind him holding the sniper’s rifle which was wafting with smoke, having been fired.
“I’m sorry, T.J., but I can’t let you kill ‘em. I love ‘em.” Kesha said apologetically as tears cascaded down her face. Her brother scowled at her and went to shoot her, but she shot him again. The bullet slammed into him, lifting him off his feet. He crashed to the floor and his gun went up into the air, dropping to the surface.
Kesha lowered the sniper’s rifle and pulled Te’Qui upon his feet.
“Uhhh!” Te’Qui winced from his wound. Holding his gut, he walked over to T.J. He took the keys to his car out of his pocket and put it in his pocket. He then took the gun off of T.J.’s waistline and picked up the one he’d dropped. When he stood up from picking up the gun, he looked down at his deceased homeboy’s face. T.J.’s eyes were bugged and his mouth was ajar. He was clearly dead from the expression on his face.
Kesha broke down weeping having looked down at T.J.’s face. Her shoulders rocked and she bowed her head, big teardrops fell from her eyes and splashed on the floor. Te’Qui limped over to her and threw one of his arms over her shoulders, consoling her as best as he could. He kissed the top of her head and rubbed her back soothingly.
“Come on, ma, let’s get outta here.” Te’Qui told her.
Still weeping, Kesha looked up into Te’Qui’s eyes, tears constantly spilling down her cheeks. “I’m sorry, bae. I never meant to hurt chu, I...”
“Shhhhh. Right now isn’t the time; we gotta get that money and get outta here.”
“Okay.” she nodded.
“Come on.” he nudged her towards the kitchen with one of his guns.
Te’Qui and Kesha made their way into the kitchen. He hoisted a duffle bag over his shoulder and she hoisted one over her shoulder. As soon as they turned around, they found a deranged T.J. charging at them. He had a large splinter in his hand, and it was cocked back in a stabbing motion.
“I’m gonna kill you, you fucking whore!” T.J. screamed at the top of his lungs.
Te’Qui stepped in front of Kesha and pointed both of his guns at him. He popped his toys off back to back.
Blocka! Blocka! Blocka! Bloc! Bloc! Bloc! Blocka! Blocka! Bloc! Bloc!
T.J. dropped his splinter to the floor as he was hit with a barrage of bullets. His head bobbed and he danced on his feet, moving backwards. He took one last step back and went flying through an enormous hole in the floor of the living room.
“Aaaaaah!” T.J. hollered out in freefall. “Uhhh!”
Te’Qui and Kesha walked over to the enormous hole in the floor. They peeked over into it and saw T.J. impaled on some rusty pipes sticking from out of the floor. His eyes were as big as golf balls and blood was pouring out of his mouth. Holding on to the rusted pipes sticking from out of his torso, he looked down at them. His head then fell back and his arms and legs stiffened. He was without a shadow of a doubt dead.
Te’Qui, still looking down at T.J., took a deep breath. He then tucked his bangaz into the front of his Dickies and grabbed Kesha by her hand, leading her out of the decrepit house.
Te’Qui and Kesha walked down the short flight of steps of the back porch. Te’Qui popped the trunk and they dumped their duffle bags inside of the trunk, slamming it shut afterwards. They went to climb inside of the vehicle, but a sharp whistle at their rear drew their attention. They looked and found Big Will with a long ass, black shotgun.
“Fuck you think you going, lil’ nigga?” Big Will asked, with hatred plastered on his face.
Instantly, Te’Qui stepped in front of Kesha and pulled out his bangaz again. When he heard someone jump down behind him. He glanced over his shoulder. He found Enzo standing to his feet after having climbed over the fence. He was clutching a shotgun too, except his was long and chrome.
“Yeah, fuck you think yo’ young ass going?” Enzo said off of Big Will.
“What’s y’all beef, Blood?” Te’Qui asked Big Will. He figured that Enzo must have figured out that he was the one trying to rob him that night at Club Vicious, but he didn’t know how he found out.
“Yo’ bitch-ass tried to rob me. And don’t try to deny it either ‘cause yo’ lil’ fat-ass homeboy dimed you out.” Enzo mad dogged him.
Once Enzo had finished speaking, Big Will spoke up. “You killed unc, Blood. You killed Drama. That’s family. And nobody touches my mothafuckin’ family.”
“I didn’t touch Drama, but I can’t say I hadn’t planned too. I suppose T.J., my fat-ass homeboy, told you otherwise though. Am I right?”
Big Will mad dogged Te’Qui hard as fuck, but he didn’t say anything though. A single tear slid down his cheek and his nostrils flared. That was enough to let Te’Qui that the answer to his question was yes.
“Well, I can already see there ain’t no way I can talk my way outta this shit. We gon’ have to get it poppin’, am I right?” Te’Qui looked back and forth between Big Will and Enzo, to see what they’d have to say.
“You mothafucking right,” Enzo assured him.
“Cool. Big Will, you already know a young nigga with the shits.”
“Gotsa to tip my hat to ya, I do respect yo’ gangsta.” Big Will conceded with a nod.
“As I do yours,” Te’Qui replied. “Check this out, my girl’s preggo, let her walk. Y’all let my boo walk and we can get into some gangsta shit.”
“She can bounce.” Big Will said, stepping aside so Kesha could walk past him.
Chick-chick!
Enzo racked his shotgun and pointed it at Kesha, saying, “Nah, fuck that! The bitch stays put! She rides wit ‘em so she can die wit ‘em. Fuck ‘em both!” keeping his eyes on the couple, Enzo spat on the ground.
“I wasn’t going no where no
way, bitch-ass nigga!” Kesha mad dogged Enzo, standing back to back with Te’Qui. “Like you said, I ride for my man,” she pointed her sniper rifle at Enzo. “We can get it poppin’ right here and right now.”
“Bae, fuck are you doin’? I can probably get Big Will to let chu walk.” Te’Qui said to her in a hushed tone, wincing. His eyes were on Big Will, but he was speaking to Kesha.
“Fuck these niggaz, bae. If it go down, then it go down.” she spoke fearlessly. “At least this way, if we die, you and the baby and I will all be together in heaven.” Uneven tears rolled down Kesha’s cheeks and she took one hand off her rifle to wipe them away.
“I love you, ma.” Te’Qui told her.
“I love you even more.” Kesha proclaimed.
“Shall we?” Big Will asked of the showdown.
“Yes, we shall.” Te’Qui replied.
And with the question having been answered, an ghetto orchestra played.
Bloom! Bloom! Bloom! Blocka! Blocka! Blocka! Bloc! Bloc! Choot! Choot! Choot! Blocka! Bloc! Bloc! Choot! Choot! Bloc!
A cloud of gunsmoke loomed in the air. Seconds later, bodies hit the dirt, leaving Te’Qui and Kesha standing victorious.
Kesha looked ahead to find Enzo lying on the ground, still gripping his shotgun, dead. She looked down at her duffle bag and it had thirty small holes from shotgun pellets. The rounds from Enzo’s powerful weapon struck the duffle bag, shielding her. To be sure she hadn’t been hit; Kesha patted herself down for wounds, discovering that she was okay.
“I’m okay, I’m okay.” Kesha said surprised. She had been sure she was going to end up shot or dead. “Bae, I got ‘em, I got his ass.” she turned to Te’Qui. He was still on his feet, but Big Will was lying on his back, dead. His shotgun was lying above his head on the ground.
“I got Big Will, too.” Te’Qui said with pain in his voice. When Kesha grabbed his arm, she saw his blood pelting the dirt.
“Oh, my God, you’re bleeding!” Kesha said in a panic.
“Awww, fuck, nigga, shot me,” he groaned and touched the side of his face, fingers coming away bloody. He dropped to the dirt on his knees and fell on his side, ending up on his back.