“I may not be a super genius, but I at least try to do my own stuff, put in my own work, and earn what I get even if it isn’t outstanding!” asserted Samantha.
“I don’t believe this; I’m friends with a bunch of nerds, and no one can hook me up with —.” He interrupted himself when he saw the peeled eyes and arched brows upon James’ face. Lenny glanced at James face before jumping from his seat and walking away, briskly. Tenesha looked at her nemesis’s expression and saw anger she had never associated with her rival, before. Samantha noticed the same thing, and they both quickly followed Lenny to the classroom.
They maneuvered through the hallways and enjoyed the isolation before the corridors became full of students who were dismissed by the bell. The pair almost entered the classroom, but Tenesha quickly grabbed Samantha’s arm to get her attention.
“Samantha, put that mp3 player away before Mrs. Tennyson has some new music to add to her collection. You know teachers don’t make that much, so saving a penny instead of going to the store for music is cost effective,” warned Tenesha, informatively. Samantha immediately acknowledged her friend’s warning and shoved the device in her pocket. Tenesha’s reason for telling her to put it away was because of a song she heard coming from the device. Her muscles tensed and her temples throbbed upon thinking about the musical, empty promises. Tenesha’s clenched her teeth at the thought or mention of love songs and human intimacy.
Tenesha’s pen hurriedly scribbled across her paper, while other students listened to what Mrs. Tennyson said about the History lesson. She glanced at the clock on the wall and placed her books in her backpack, gathered her notes, and neatly placed them in her folder. The teenager’s head followed her inquisitive eyes behind the seat to notice Lenny scribbling on his desk with a pencil and drawing pictures of cartoon characters. If he stops trying to be Michelangelo, he might be able to get some of his work done instead of asking to borrow someone else’s. She looked two desks down from Lenny and saw Samantha arranging her stuff to go home.
The inquisitive adolescent glanced at Stick, and he was digging in his nose as though he was looking for a toy in the bottom of a cereal box. The repulsed, young woman cringed and turned away. She finally saw James halfway paying attention to Mrs. Tennyson but mildly directing his attention to his curious adversary.
“Tenesha! Is there something or someone in the back of the classroom that is more important than what I am telling you about your homework assignment?” inquired Mrs. Tennyson.
“Naw! She just has ADHD, Mrs. Tennyson!” shouted James. The room filled with laughter, and James reclined in his seat with a smile after his tactical vengeance against Tenesha. He leaned in his seat and smiled, smugly. Tenesha immediately folded her arms and mildly scowled.
“That’s enough, James!” shouted Mrs. Tennyson. The bell rang, but everyone was more still than rocks. The students knew better than to move before Mrs. Tennyson dismissed them; otherwise, they would have more homework, a pop quiz, and a phone call to a parent or guardian for disrupting the class.
“You can go” permitted the teacher from her desk as she indifferently waved her hand toward the door. The students rushed out of the classroom like a raging river, and swarms of color flowed to the buses. Tenesha inhaled deeply as she reveled in relief of her day being over. She rose out of her chair after everyone else had left the room. The smell of sweat, perfume, and make-up lingered through the hallway. Students shoved one another into lockers, doors, and each other in their effort to leave the campus. She calmly walked behind them, while crowds slammed one another through the doors to depart from the building.
Thoughts of soaking in a hot tub full of bubbles permeated her mind along with eating a piece of thick, rich, decadent chocolate cake with an ice-cold glass of milk. Blissful flavors teased her palate with the notion of plunging her teeth into a delicious sea of chocolate before disappearing unexpectedly by a choking grasp upon her by the collar, which pulled her off of the step in the same motion before anyone noticed. Rocks and gravel embedded themselves into her legs and blood flowed from her cuts and bruises.
Tenesha quickly throbbed, jerked, and twisted her body with all of her efforts, but the force that was pulling her did not even budge or shake with resistance. Someone placed a hand forcefully over her mouth before she could open it. She tirelessly grasped onto every passing object to bear nothing but scratched hands for her effort. She saw several, muscular backs surrounding her. She wanted to scream for help, but her voice was completely drowned by the buses’ engines.
She felt the pull of several people grasping her clothes. The crowd of students gathered around her. Every attempt to see who or what was surrounding or moving her was met with blurred images from her head throbbing from the motion of being yanked. Everything suddenly stopped in an area between two buildings with a grassy plot and several boys staring down at her, apathetically. How did I get here, and who's doing this stuff to me? Why am I here, and what going on?! Her head darted in numerous directions before pausing to notice she was within the shadow of a horribly familiar figure. She slowly turned her head around to see Six Tres standing ominously over her like a gun tower in a penitentiary.
“You thought you were so smart, rejecting me like a bad organ! See! I am the man, and you gone show me my respect when I get through wit' cha!” asserted the gruff voice. Tenesha rushed to her feet in one swift sprint before a large hand grabbed her arm and slammed her against the brick wall. She grabbed her head to ease her spinning vision before her cheeks repeatedly burst with pain from heavy, open palms continuously striking them. She attempted to block with one hand and swing with the other, but she might as well have been punching a brick wall. He pushed her onto the ground and proceeded to continuously hit her until she had a busted lip, a black eye, and sore stomach. Her vision became blurred before it left with her awareness.
Throbbing pain pierced her head. She felt grass beneath her feet, dress, and body. Light hurt her eyes as she opened them. Tenesha looked at her blouse to see her blood giving it a whole new appearance. She saw her skirt was torn although it was still whole. The brutalized victim shook her head slightly as amber and green blades fell from her braids upon adjusting them. Soreness filled her body with discomfort and pain with each movement.
Blurred vision informed Tenesha her glasses were not on her face. Her hand slowly eased its way through mildly wet, green blades before feeling slightly cool metal grazing her fingertips. She grasped the spectacles and placed them upon her nose. Her whole anatomy throbbed as she slowly regained her composure. She rose to her feet like a newborn and trotted even more slowly. She grasped her throbbing stomach and ignored her bruised legs' protests. Her backpack dangled loosely from her battered, left shoulder. The young adolescent knew a dangerous walk was ahead since she lived nearly a mile from the school.
Tenesha proceeded to leave the campus and walked toward the gates before noticing her attacker leaning against the entrance with several of his followers around it. Some of the other delinquents approached the young woman with their fists clenched, hands over their pistols, and furrowed brows beaming at her; however, the first juvenile jumped between them and updated his associates.
“I got this!” Then, Six Tres turned around to address his victim.
“You don’t have ta go out with me, but you will respect me from now on!” asserted the bully as he bent in her direction with his ear cupped near her face. They surrounded her, looked at her bruised eye and bleeding lip, and nodded at each other with chuckles and smiles.
“I bet you’ll give this man his respect from now on, won’t you?” reiterated one of the bullies, smugly. She slowly walked toward the gate to leave the campus before Six Tres yelled, “Answer the man’s question! Won’t you?”
“Yes!” cried Tenesha as tears streamed down her cheeks and dried blood formed a paste on her lip and part of her right eye. The victimized student began to feel a little better after walking one block. The young woman completely turne
d in a circle before continuing her trek. She passed old houses with stucco, brick, and old paneling. The pedestrian felt the amber beams heating her shoulders and sweat drenching her scalp with everything beneath it.
The salty beads on Tenesha’s face replaced some of the blood as she increased her pace and carefully observed the surroundings. The passer-by accidentally walked into a huddle of men around the corner of a red, brick building despite paying close attention to her surroundings. Tenesha saw her reflection in their sunglasses, and gold watches upon tweed sleeves handing over dirty-white powder in a plastic bag to a man with dark smears over his jeans, dead skin dangling from his lip, and a stench that would make a skunk turn its nose up. The passing student quietly turned around and attempted to walk away before a firm grasp held her shoulder as she was gently but firmly turned around. The pain from her previous assault surged through her with the fury of electricity flowing through power lines.
“Sir, if anyone asks, I did not see anything, and all I want to do is get home to my family in one piece,” sobbed Tenesha, quietly. Her wide eyes glanced away from the six-foot, black, silk suit with amber sparkles from the rings blinding her, mildly. A glance revealed the attire draped over solid bulk with the prestige of an American flag over a veteran's casket. Tenesha glanced up at the towering individual and saw the seven-foot person made her recent tormentor look like a ragged, overweight elf.
“You must have bumped into my boy, Six Tres. He pushes powder for me with a bunch of his friends.”
“Well sir, what you do is truly your business, and I will not interfere in any way, shape, manner, or form…You mean you pay Six Tres, and he still robs students and a bunch of us, whose parents can barely afford to feed them? Look, I have never heard or seen anything, especially if anyone decides to ask,” suggested Tenesha, looking away from his direction.
“Well, it’s not that simple, little lady. You saw my face, and I can’t risk having you tell anyone about my business. Tell you what: you push powder for me and get some of your friends to try it, and I may give you a little amnesty from Six Tres. Six Tres is just lettin’ y’all know that I run the area, and that y’all need to show me my respect.”
“Doesn’t Six Tres already have this part of your territory covered?” inquired Tenesha.
“He’s been skimming some of my funds and sales, and he doesn’t think I know about it,” edified the cold, illegal merchant. “I think you would be the perfect replacement for Six Tres.”
“Why? Six Tres is much larger than I am, and he could probably sell more product than I could,” suggested Tenesha.
“No, I’m going to have a long talk with Six Tres that will probably end with his permanent resignation. Besides, you are much smarter than Six Tres, and you can get into places that neither he nor I can,” replied the man with a cold demeanor.
“I cannot do that, Mr. uh-.”
“Just call me, Black Serpent” replied the cold man.
“Listen, I cannot sell any of your products; otherwise, my mother will put me in a casket, and I am not very slick. I’ll be the first to get caught. I get nervous really easily and fast. You see all of these bruises that I have. What makes you think I would avoid being robbed by bigger competitors much more easily, Black Serpent, sir?” inquired Tenesha, rhetorically.
“You are respectful, but the one thing that I cannot take for an answer is ‘no’. This is too good an opportunity for me to pass up. You have just the right connections, and the new generation of customers that I need to sustain my business for a very long time. You look like a smart girl, and no one will ever suspect that you would be peddling my powder. You are now one of my employees, and there is no such thing as refusal. I can always find out where you live and pay your mother a little visit, and I can always get Six Tres or others like him to give you certain messages on my behalf by the day,” threatened Black Serpent as he pulled down his shades and winked.
The large man casually handed over a plastic bag of dirty white powder and patted suit as though he fell in the dust. He immediately turned around and climbed into a sleek, black sub utility vehicle with twenty-four-inch, chromium rims. Tenesha’s eyes followed the SUV’s movement until it turned onto another street around a corner. A large scowl appeared on her face as she glanced at the dangling bag. A rusty grate upon a storm drain attracted her attention with a small stream, noisily flowing into it.
I could just throw this stuff down the drain, go home, and forget this ever happened, but then, my blood will be trickling down the drain after the bag if I did that. The soreness of her assault reminded her of the unpleasant encounter she had with Six Tres. She barely grasped the plastic bag with her fingertips, darted her head in all directions, and shoved it into her backpack. Her eyes and ears perceived everything around her, despite its vanity in light of her previous, undesirable encounter with the criminals.
Tenesha stepped upon the dead, amber lawn as she stared at her one-story, red brick home with widespread settling, two hours later. The young woman wandered numerous streets and blocks as her mind stretched each neuron for a solution. She inhaled deeply as she accepted the unavoidable chaos as she walked home. The youth slouched before raising her shoulders and tiptoeing upon the brown, brittle blades of grass. She eased her hand along the old, rusty rail on the porch leading to its front door with its hickory varnish peeling off of it. She saw the familiar small, one-story, dingy, red-brick house that she called home.
She gasped deeply when she saw a familiar, beige sedan parked on the rocky driveway. Tenesha did not want her mother to see her coming home late. The windows in the house were completely dark. She is probably inside sleeping. She even lowered her foot slowly upon the grass with each step to reduce its sounds. The teenager held her back against the wall and eased along it until she was near the porch.
Tenesha ducked beneath the window in case maternal eyes were staring through it. The sneak paused for a few seconds. When everything was still, she released a great deal of tension in a great exhalation. Relaxation and peace filled the adolescent’s body. A sudden, bright flash shattered her calm mood like a nuclear bomb exploding on a small, tranquil island. The porch light illuminated a young girl with bulging eyes and chattering teeth, and the door swung open with the fury of a hurricane. An almond-skinned woman frowned ominously as she stood in the entrance with an extension cord dangling from her right hand.
Tenesha opened her mouth to speak before five fingers nearly punctured her arm and pulled her. She saw the living room’s furniture in a single strobe before her head was followed by her body into a wall. The young woman found herself unwillingly lying upon her back for the second time, today. A hostile, motherly voice spoke as the young woman pushed herself off of the floor.
“Tenesha, you know you’re supposed to be home to watch your brother before I get home! I get in the house, and I see him eating ice cream and playing video games instead of studying and doing his homework! I don’t know why you decided that hanging out was more important than watching your brother, but I am going to set you straight, right now! I still owe you a beating from this morning for that sassy mouth!”
The aggressive mother snatched Tenesha’s arm and shoved her into another wall. The adolescent found herself on the floor, once again. The young woman opened her eyes to see the large mother’s dark silhouette standing over her like a lion watching its prey. The hefty woman glanced at her daughter. Her eyes bulged as though she were in shock before dropping the extension cord, suddenly. The woman completely ceased everything as though someone pulled the switch controlling her life. Yvette's eyes gazed at her daughter’s body and with tears flowing from them.
“Who did this to you, and how did you get those bruises on your arm?”
The adolescent was almost relieved before she saw her mother reaching for her backpack, and the illegal substance fell onto the floor for Yvette to notice as she quickly gasped.
“There are so—,” began Tenesha, before being interrupted by a swift
, open palm to her mouth.
“Tenesha! I know you are not bringing any of this garbage into my house for your brother to get into and God-knows-what!” screamed Yvette as she dangled the bag of Black Serpent’s merchandise in the air.
“It’s not my fau—,” pleaded Tenesha, before her sentence was interrupted by several vicious slaps to the face, repeatedly. She tried to run before a clenched fist rushed into the side of her arm and knocked her over. The trapped teenager tried to gasp for breath before the next blow knocked it out of her. T.C. stared around the corner very briefly and pulled his head back from view. Tenesha glanced up briefly to see if her mother was finished, but she saw her mother’s hand grasping the extension cord…
…Afterwards, Tenesha carefully placed alcohol on many of the red marks that were left on her body as she stood in front of the bathroom mirror. The sting of the stringent fluid touching her wounds made her flinch. She saw bruises from her earlier encounter with Six Tres as well as some fresh ones inflicted by her mother. Her muscles burned with fatigue as she looked into the mirror at different areas of her skin. The adolescent carefully applied water, soap, and stringent upon her face, rinsed it off, and gently patted her face with a towel.
The door swung open with a strong grasp seizing her waist as the teenager completed the last of her nighttime rituals. The breezes of the air conditioner sent sharp reminders of her broken skin’s presence. Pain exploded through sensitive areas from a loving grasp with a clenched fist raised before thinking about the intent. He does not even realize I am in pain, right now! I cannot punch his lights out, now! This was the first time Tenesha remembered her little brother being halfway nice to her in a very long time. The courteous sister returned the embrace and gently pushed him away to ease the pain.
Tenesha stared at the ceiling as she rested upon her bed. She quietly said her prayers, lifted the covers, and pulled them over her sore body. Her mind wandered as she lost awareness.
Trouble's Always Watching Volume 1: Volume 1 (The Trouble Series) Page 4