Project Dreamz

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by Natavia




  Project Dreamz

  By

  Natavia

  Copyright © 2020 by Natavia. Published by SOUL Publications. All rights

  reserved www.soulauthors.com. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales or, is entirely coincidental. No portion of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without writer permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Prologue

  Tryst

  Present day, July 5th 2014…

  The stench of blood mixed with the night’s heat filled the vacant house. My wife beater was saturated in the red liquid and so were my sneakers. I had a hunting knife in my hand, the same kind of knife you gut deer with. Tears stung the brims of my eyes because I felt betrayed—soulless. I trusted this nigga with everything, EVERYTHING! He showed me the way, showed me how to be a man. I did everything he asked of me, even shit that was out of my comfort zone.

  “Tryst, you can’t do this,” he said, spitting out blood.

  I stabbed his bitch-ass five times and he was still alive.

  “STOP!” he screamed when I jabbed the knife into his arm.

  “Nigga, FUCK YOU! You had my shorty set-up and you betrayed my father. I thought you was blood, fam. I thought we were a family and you do this shit to me, huh? You think I wasn’t going to find out how you manipulated everybody? Naw, nigga, you gotta pay.”

  “You were broke when I met you! Now look at you, you’ve come a long way. See, your father wanted you to be something you weren’t but I showed you who you really are, Tryst. We are alike, we do shit to get what we want. You’re no different than me, muthafucka!” he said.

  “I’m loyal, fam. I have always been loyal.”

  “I took you under my wing! That was loyal enough,” he said.

  I grabbed a chair and sat in front of him, letting him bleed out while he tried holding on to life. Some things just weren’t meant for me. No matter what I did, something always came looking for me. My life was perfect before this nightmare.

  I remembered when me and my family lost everything in just one week. It all started with a fight between my parents six years ago…

  Part One:

  R.I.P

  Tryst

  October 15th 2008…

  “Fuck you, David! What’s this bitch’s name?” I heard my mother yelling at my father. Even with the door shut and my TV on while talking to my girl on the phone, I could still hear them. Whenever my father stayed away from home for a few days, he and my mother would argue until it got physical, but I was used to it.

  “You want to come over here? My parents are asleep. I can unlock the basement door,” Jonna said. Jonna has been my girl since ninth grade and she lived a few houses down from us. We lived in a gated community in a suburban area of Annapolis. We also attended private school thirty minutes away from our house.

  “No, I’m going to stay home in case I have to break them up. The shit is annoying,” I replied. There was a loud thud coming from the hallway. I hung up on Jonna before rushing out of my bedroom. My parents were in the hallway tussling. My mother’s nails were putting marks on my father’s face. They knocked over a few statues in the hallway. My sister, Deerie, who was only a year younger than me came out of her bedroom to watch the fight.

  “We have to wake up for school in the morning!” I shouted at my parents while trying to pull them apart. My father had dreadlocks so my mother sort of had the upper-hand while pulling his hair.

  “Let his hair go, Ma!” I yelled at her. She swung, attempting to hit my father but she clocked me in the mouth instead. I tasted blood. My mother was a housewife, so she spent most of her days drinking. Matter of fact, she was always drunk which is why I figured my father stayed away. She wasn’t a great mother; we raised ourselves whenever our father wasn’t home. Usually, I called her by her government name, Kimberly.

  “BITCH!” my father yelled before slapping my mother onto the floor. It was the first time he actually hit her.

  “GET OUT!” my mother yelled.

  “This is my house! The fuck you mean get out, huh? I paid for all this shit while you sit on your stale pussy-having flat ass and do nothing!” David yelled.

  “That’s how you talk to your wife, David? You want to talk about me in front of our children? My stale pussy? Says the punk bitch that knocked me up twice! You think I wanted this life? You ruined me!” my mother screamed. Blood was dripping down my chest from my lip. My father’s face was covered in scratches and my mother’s cheek was starting to swell.

  “We’re stuck together so deal with it! Let me talk to you, son,” my father said to me. Deerie rushed to our mother to help her off the floor. To be honest, I was sick of breaking up their fights. Why couldn’t my parents be perfect like my homeboy’s parents? They never did this type of shit but every time I was on the phone, they could hear my parents calling each other hoes and other shit. I followed my father down the staircase and into the family room. He poured us both two glasses of Henny. I wasn’t supposed to be drinking but let David tell it, I’m already a man. I sat at the kitchen island and he brought me a paper towel for my lip. My father was also my homeboy and I could talk to him about anything. Even though we were very close, he stayed on my ass about my grades and sports. I played football and lacrosse for my school. To him I was the perfect son, everything he wanted to be when he was my age.

  “Why can’t you just come home every night, so Mother can be happy?” I asked when he sat across from me.

  “If I came home every night, you wouldn’t be able to drive a Range Rover to school. My hustle is in the streets, it has always been in the streets. I’m sure you understand what I’m tryin’ to tell you, son,” he replied.

  He tossed his drink back in one gulp before he pulled out a blunt. At thirty-eight years old, my pops looked younger. I was slightly taller than him by a few inches but he was bulky in size. His arms, hands and neck were covered in ink. There were some things about my father I didn’t understand like the money he had and the cars he drove. We damn-near lived in a mansion. He had a few small businesses here and there, but they were in the hood. I wasn’t dumb, those corner stores he had couldn’t make enough to support our lifestyle. One time, Jonna even asked me if my father was a drug dealer. No matter how much I knew, I still couldn’t muster up the courage to ask him what he did for a living.

  “I’m just asking,” I finally said.

  “Don’t ask questions that you already have the answer to because you’ll be disappointed if the answer is a lie.”

  “What did you want to talk to me about?” I asked.

  “I wanted to talk to Deerie also, but she might not understand. This was the final straw, Tryst. I was going to wait until me and your mother can have a civil conversation but it’s not going to happen. I’m leaving your mother. I have a loft on the other side of town. You and Deerie will have a key to see me anytime you want but I was hoping you’d come live with me,” he said.

  “Y’all always make up after a fight. Can’t you buy her a purse or something to make her happy like you always do? What about a new piece of jewelry? Why do you want to break this family up?”

  “Me and your mother’s marriage has been over since you were eight years old. I married your mother because she came from a churchgoing family. Her father pulled a shot gun out on me and told me if I didn’t marry his daughter after knocking her up, he was going to kill me. I realized I had to be a man about it and married your mother before you got here. We didn’t marry because we loved
each other, we did it so that you could grow up with two parents. I don’t regret any of that shit, but it’s time me and your mother be happy,” he said.

  I knew the day was coming but not now. For some reason I thought they’d split up after me and Deerie finished college. But my father was leaving, and the feeling didn’t sit well with me. I remembered a time when my parents were happy even though I was young. Some memories just don’t fade away, especially important ones. My mother came into the kitchen to get an ice pack from the freezer. She leaned against the counter mean mugging David. If looks could kill, he would’ve been pulverized.

  “I heard you while I was coming into the kitchen, David. Tell our son the real reason why we haven’t been getting along. Tell Tryst the truth about you or else I’ll do it!” she said.

  “Shut the fuck up, Kimberly! Enough is enough!” David yelled.

  “Your father has another family. A son to be exact! He’s only a year younger than you, so he got another woman pregnant while I was carrying your sister. I didn’t find out about him until you were about eight years old. Your father is and will always be a cheater! Your daddy ain’t shit but of course you think I’m a fucked-up parent. I’m an alcoholic because of his bitch-ass,” she said.

  I don’t know why I felt betrayed, but I did. I rushed upstairs and Deerie was coming out of the bathroom while I headed towards my bedroom. She asked me what was wrong, but I slammed the door in her face. I could accept my father leaving my mother but not him having another family all this time. He wanted to show me how to be a man, but I guess that’s what comes with it. I laid across the bed and stared at the ceiling thinking about my life. Maybe my father pushed me to do better than him because he knew he wasn’t shit. That’s all I could come up with.

  “Tryst, I know you’re mad at me, but we can talk after school tomorrow. Maybe you’ll be calmed down by then. I’m going to text you the address to my loft. I’ll be expecting you. I know I haven’t been honest but I’m still your father. I’ll holla at you tomorrow. Love you, son!” he said from the other side of my bedroom door. Jonna texted me to see if I was straight but I didn’t respond. Her parents were happy, she wouldn’t understand what I was going through so I wasn’t trying to talk to her neither. I closed my eyes and forced myself to sleep.

  The next day…

  The alarm clock went off on my phone. It was time to get ready for school. I smelled bacon. It’d been months since I woke up to breakfast being cooked. I grabbed my cellphone then left my bedroom. Slow jams were playing, and I could hear my mother singing. She sounded happy and I wondered what happened while I was asleep. When I walked into the kitchen, she kissed my cheek.

  “Good morning. Go set the table so we can eat breakfast,” she said.

  “Where is David?”

  “He left early this morning. We finally talked and I’m happy now. I didn’t mean to go off the way I did last night. After you got upset and went to your room, I felt so horrible about what I said when it should’ve been discussed differently. Anyway, me and your father reconciled. We aren’t getting a divorce, at least until we see a counselor but until then, he won’t be living with us,” she said.

  “So, that’s it? Y’all decided that after hurting me and Deerie as if that’s going to change something What about David’s other child? You’re all of a sudden over that when you claimed that destroyed your marriage for ten years?”

  “We finally talked, Tryst. You didn’t hear that?” she asked. I wanted to ask her if she was drunk, but I minded my business and went to set the table. Kimberly called Deerie downstairs. After breakfast was finished, we all sat down at the table and ate silently. Kimberly was still singing while we were eating. Me and Deerie looked at each other and realized something was off—way off. I didn’t plan on talking to my father just yet, but I decided to stop by his home after I got out of school. I wanted to know if everything was finally back to normal again or if our mother lost her mind. After breakfast was over, I went upstairs to get ready for school.

  An hour later…

  Me and Deerie was late to school so we had to sign in the front office. Jonna waited for me in the hallway. She must’ve gotten a pass to use to the bathroom when I told her I was on my way.

  “Don’t get in trouble today, Deerie,” I said while leaving the office. Deerie was always into some shit in school, between fighting or disrespecting teachers.

  “I’ll see what I can do,” she said. Deerie grilled Jonna on her way to her first period class. Deerie hated Jonna because she hung out with girls Deerie hated. I stayed out of it because I wasn’t into that drama shit.

  “Are you okay? What happened with your parents?” Jonna asked.

  “My father is leaving my mother, but don’t tell anybody. Our friends don’t need to know what goes in my life.”

  “Fine, I won’t,” she said, putting her hair back behind her ears.

  Jonna is biracial. She had pretty big green eyes with sandy brown thick hair and freckles. She was on the slim side and also tall, almost reaching my six-foot-three frame. Often times she was mistaken for a model. Her plaid uniform skirt stopped above her knees and the thick blue socks she wore slouched down her legs. Jonna was also the prettiest girl in school. It was difficult at times being out in public with her because of my dark-skin and thick dreadlocks. Our school was predominately white and Asian. I counted only twenty black kids throughout the whole school.

  “You want to sneak off somewhere, so I can make you feel better?” she asked.

  I thought about it because Jonna enjoyed sucking my dick and during the late night, she snuck me into her bedroom, so we could have sex for hours. With all that was going on, I needed to blow off some steam.

  “We can hook up tonight. We got a big game coming up, so coach is really going to be on our asses at practice today,” I replied.

  She puckered out her pink glossed lips and I kissed her. A teacher was coming out of the office, so I hurriedly pulled away. The teacher cleared his throat before telling us to go back to class.

  “I love you, Tryst. I’ll see you in lunch,” Jonna said, walking backwards.

  “Love you, too!”

  Damn, I didn’t want to come to school today. I should’ve hooked to see about my father, but he would’ve been heated if I hooked school.

  I walked into my first period class and sat in the back. My homeboy, Ryan, passed me the notes he wrote down for me.

  “Appreciate it.”

  “Don’t sweat it, bruh,” he replied.

  Ryan thought he was cool because he talked slang and liked black girls. He spoke about Tupac all day and everyday around me. Maybe he thought I wouldn’t be his friend if he wasn’t “down” but the shit was annoying sometimes.

  “When did you get that?” he asked about my watch.

  “Over the weekend.”

  “Yo, your father bought you a Rolex? Damn, my father doesn’t buy me shit and he has money. What does your father do anyway? Why don’t you ever tell us?” Ryan asked.

  “Mind yah fuckin’ business, bruh,” I replied.

  “What, is he a drug dealer or something? You can tell me, you know I’m hip,” he whispered.

  “The fuck is you, the cops or somethin’?”

  “No, bruh, I’m just saying the school talks about you behind your back. You’re the only kid who comes to school with jewelry and you drive a Range Rover. Most of us have hand-me-down cars,” he said.

  “Black people can’t have money, muthafucka?”

  “Dang, it’s not like that. I didn’t mean to offend you,” he replied.

  “Look, I’m under a lot of stress so don’t say shit to me today.”

  Ryan nodded and I stared at the blackboard ahead of me with a lot on my mind. There was something changing in my life already and I couldn’t put my finger on it. Since the talk with my father the night before, I now understood what he did for a living, but I wanted to know why. He could’ve had the life he wanted for me, but he chose not to. I
couldn’t even appreciate all he had done for us because he was risking his life to do it. I took off my watch and put it in my backpack. For the first time in my life, I realized why my friends asked me certain questions. I fit the stereotype of a young black man in America. Could I prove them wrong? Yeah, I could, but would I be doing it for me or making them happy? Damn, I hate growing up!

  **********

  “TRYST! PICK IT UP!” the coach said when I missed the catch during practice. I was fucking up badly. My stomach was tied thinking about my parents. Usually school was the highlight of my life, but I wasn’t feeling it. After the fifth fuck-up, the coach called me over to the side. I took my helmet off, slamming it against the bench.

  “I know you’re going through something at home, but this here is your family, too. You got a big game Friday and this behavior will not be tolerated. Do you think you’re the only one on the team who has mommy and daddy issues? Well, you’re not, Tryst! Now go back out there and do what you’re known for. Don’t let your parents fuck up your career. A lot of your teammates wish they were in your shoes, so be thankful! You’ve come a long way, Tryst. I’ll take you off the team before I let you make a fool out of this school,” he said.

  “You know about my parents?” I asked in disbelief.

  “I know what’s going on with all of my players, now go make me happy,” he said. He slapped my shoulder pad then told me to get back in the game. Jonna couldn’t keep her big ass mouth shut. I should’ve known better because she was the biggest gossip in school, I just didn’t think she’d throw her own boyfriend under the bus.

  Practice was finally over. We headed back to the locker room to shower. My homeboy Sebastian’s locker was next to mine. He was one of my only black friends at school. His father is the mayor of the city, so he was popular, too.

  “You could’ve called me about your parents, bro. Your girl texted Ryan’s girl and she told everyone. I don’t know why Amanda hates you so much. That bitch must want some black meat instead of dealing with Ryan’s fake ass,” Sebastian said, and I chuckled.

 

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