MURDER GAME

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It's a night out with my friends. Me and a few buddies had gathered. We weren't going anywhere particular. The plan was to drink and roll around town and do some damage. A bunch of 19, 20 years olds. I had just gotten out of jail a few weeks before. And was still getting my 'street legs' back. The excitement of freedom had worn off. And now I was back to survival. Somehow, we ended up over this chicks house. One of my friends knew her. And knew that she was cool enough to let a bunch of hooligans chill in her house. The bitch was fine. White bitch. Big titties. She was in the middle of getting dressed for a night out herself when we arrived. I remember the little black dress she wore. Her bending over to put on here heels. And the view from there.

She had a kid. A little boy. The babysitter was already there. White chick. She was cool. Sitting in the living room chopping it up and laughing with us. She was decent looking. But nothing special about her.

Shortly after the big tittie white bitch left for the club, me and my entourage bounced. us guys left together. I don't remember why or were to. But soon after I got separated from the pack. I had run into someone I knew and started drinking with him, and by the time I'd left him I had lost track of the others. Since we hadn't settle on one particular place to chill, I knew those guys could be anywhere. The only place I knew to look was back at the white chicks crib.

It wasn't that far. So I walk back. I'm drunk from the liquor my friend and I shared. Not stumble drunk. But feeling like I could take on a bear drunk.

I reach the apartment and no one was home. I was surprised to find out that the back door was unlocked, so I let myself in.

The alcohol had me hungry. So I raid the fridge. But the only thing in there edible was a few eggs. I decided to boil them.

While I wait for the eggs to get done I sat on the living room and watched some TV. A few moments later I heard the back door open, then a females voice. I didn't hear all of what she said. But I do remember her saying something about the eggs on the stove.

Now I hear male voices. Two of them.

I stayed seated on the couch. I figured why get up? They'll see me eventually once they'd made their way into the living room. The first was one of the males. G.O.. I knew him. We didn't hang out together, but we hung out with a lot of the same people. I expected him to say 'Oh it's just you'. Or something along those lines. But instead, he angrily ask, 'WTF you doin here'? then called the other male into the room. I knew this kid too. But by face only. A whiteboy. I had seen him from time to time and knew that him and G.O. were real cool.

When the whiteboy enters the living room and sees me, he asked the same question in the same tone as G.O. had done.

I became angry. I stood up and said. dude, I was just looking for the crew and thought they came back here. 'How'd the fuck you get in?' The whiteboy asked. This made me even angrier. Not just his tone but for the fact that I knew he was just showing off for G.O. and the bitch. Which by this time I'd lost track of where she was. I got in the same way you did. I answered him. By the back door. 'How did you know that shit was unlocked'? G.O. demanded.

While he said these things he balled his fists and started walking around a circle like he was holding back aggression. That was it for me. No more questions. No more answers. I pointed a finger at him then said, Nigga I don't know who the fuck you think you are, but you better chill the fuck out cause you pissing me off!

O.G.s aggressiveness surprised me. Like I said. We knew each other. And never had problems getting along. So for him to act this way, through me off. So I surmised that he too was just showing off in front of his friend and the bitch. But at my expense. I took a step a step forward and said, I aint playin wit you G.O.. Calm that yelling and cussing at me the fuck out!. G.O. quickly pulls up his pants. Then throws both fists up and into a fighting stance.

This surprised me even more. But the fact that I was drunk calmed my nerves. Remember. I could take on a bear. So I knew G.O. wouldn't be much of a challenge.

And he wasn't. Before that insulate faggot could swing, I had already yoked him up and was pushing him backward. We both landed at the base of the stairs. With me on top and with G.O. struggling at the bottom. Now I go to work. I grab his shirt with my left and began to punch him in the face with my right. A couple of blows only grazed him because of his frantic head movements. But most found their mark. Just then. I felt a powerful blow on the back of my head. Then another, then another. I had no idea someone could hit that hard.

I knew It was the whiteboy but I couldn't do anything about it. Someone had told me that while getting jumped, don't try and fight everyone. Just focus on one mother fucker. But after a couple more of those sledge hammer blows, I couldn't take it anymore. I released G.O. and stood up. Now face to face with the whiteboy. I could feel that most of my energy was gone. I was expecting the whiteboy to continue swinging, but instead he said 'GTFOH'! I did not protest. And without even looking back at G.O. I turned then opened the front door. Walking out I was afraid. I was expecting one of them to knock me in the back of the head as a parting shot. But it didn't happen.

Now outside I didn't know where to go. Or what to do. I just walked. Anger had overtaken me. And the only thing on my mind was revenge. I could think of nothing but the events and sequence that had just taken place. The balls on G.O.. The mistake that I'd made by letting that whiteboy boy get behind me. My head still throbbing from his blows. My body, aching and weary.

I hear voices and car doors. I look up from my zombie walk to see that Im close to the local bar called Tags. In the parking lot I see my cousins gray Cadillac. My cousin Blast was a big time drug dealer in my hometown. Him and his two brothers had the streets envious of them for their money and cars. Blast is older than me and on a totally different social level. That made it to where could never hang out with each other. But he and my older sister were real cool. And he always spoke to me whenever he saw me and asked if I needed anything.

O walk into Tags and see Blast sitting at the bar. I walk up to him. He turns and sees me and asks in a loud angry voice, 'WTF happened to you?! Who did this to you'? His concern for me made me feel good. But before I could speak he slid off his stool and told me to follow him to the restroom. 'To many ears out here'. he said.

The restroom was small. Once inside he asked me again what happened? And again before I could speak he interrupted me by telling me to wash my face in the sink. When I splashed my face with the cold water and cupped my hands to my face I could feel the lumps and bruises that I couldn't feel before. Between cascades of water to my face I told my big cuz what had happened. It was hard to fight back my emotions. I didn't want to look weak or cry in front of him.

When I finished telling Blast what happened he said. Stay right here. And he left the restroom. I grabbed some paper towel and started drying my face off. I dabbed at the bumps and scars and tried not to wipe too hard. By the time Id thrown the last wad of paper into the trash can, Blast opened the door and told me to 'Come on'.

I followed him to the bar and took a seat on the stool next to his. Blast tried to order me a drink but the bartender refused to serve me one. I was only 19 at the time and wasn't even supposed to be in there. But I could tell that the bartender did feel the seriousness of the situation. So he didn't tell me to leave. My cousin ordered me a ginger ale instead and we sat silently. 10 minutes past and we never said another word to each other. He was calmly smoking cigarettes sipping a long neck. While I nursed the ginger ale and listened to the music in the bar.

Out the corner of my eye, I saw a pair of headlights pull into the parking lot of Tags. Without looking at me, or knowing if Id even heard him my cousin says, 'Go get in that van that just pulled up out there'.

I climbed in the passenger seat and look over to see a familiar face. It was Rico. He and I had gone to high school together. On the bus rides home we sat next to each other. Rico was a big fat black dude. It had been a few years since I'd seen him and nothing had changed about him. We caught up for a minute or so. Then he told me 'I heard what happened'. And the mood got serious.

Before I said anything about it, Rico bent down and came up with a red handkerchief and began to unwrap it. When he handed me what was inside a sense of joy and excitement came over me. 'You know how to use one of these?' he asked. No. I said. Being from Kentucky I had shot long guns and different types of rifles but had never fired a handgun before. Rico began schooling me on how to work the gun. Showed me how to load it and how to cock the slide to load the bullet in the chamber. While he explaining this to me every few seconds or so he would pause to wipe the gun off with the red handkerchief. I didn't say anything about. I knew that he knew what was about to happen and did not want any of his prints on that gun.

Lastly he said, 'Here's the safety. Here's the trigger. Now go do what you got to do.' He wipes the piece of one last time before I got out of the van. I placed the Roscoe in my back pocket and headed in the same direction from where I came. Back to the place where they jumped me.

While walking, I start thinking about my plan of revenge. I'm quickly thinkin murder. I'm like yo I gotta put the murder game down. Cause a small town.

I knew that news like this travels quick. I have the reputation of getting busy. G.O. and the whiteboy were not street dudes like me. They didn't break the law. They didn't fight for sport. And nobody knew who the fuck they were. Myself on the other hand had a reputation to keep. People knew me as J-roc. Tippy Lewis's son. My father was a legendary tough guy in this town. And for a long time after he was killed, I felt that I had to live up to his reputation. That's why I couldn't let this one slide. These. Compared to myself, these guys were unknowns, nobody's. When people found out what had happened they would be somebody's.