Choices

By DaveTheWordsmith

Disclaimer: Boondocks is owned by Sony Pictures Digital Inc. and Aaron McGruder. All the copyrights associated with Boondocks belong to them. Only the ideas contained within this story are the property of the author. No profit is being earned by the writer of this story.

Note: Much thanks to everyone who reviewed my previous fics and responded to my reviews I gave to their fics. I really appreciate them, not to mention it kinda helps a brotha' with his motivation to write some more. Anyway, let me stop writing so I can let you read.

Chapter One

"Oh yeah? Well, I hope I never talk to you again! Goodbye!"

What a better way to begin a Sunday afternoon, right after she returned home from church, than to argue with a supposed "friend" for many years. She stabbed the "END" button of her cell phone with her thumb. A loud smack reverberated from the wall on the opposite side of the room where she threw her Blackberry Pearl Flip phone like Carson Palmer of the Cincinnati Bengals would toss a pass to Chad Ochocinco. Her lips fixed themselves into a pout as she crossed her arms and harshly exhaled from her nose. She didn't care about whether the phone was broken. That was the least of her worries. The light skinned young woman sat up from where she sat against the wall. Her two large, orange poofs of hair bounced up and down as she walked. Her bare feet slid casually over her dark gray carpet over to her stereo system by her door. She pressed play and allowed Whitney Houston's I Didn't Know My Own Strength to sooth her broken conscience.

Without a second thought, she free fell backward onto her comfortable queen sized bed and sank down into the comfy fabric. The soft, somber strings and grand piano that accompanied Whitney's soothing voice that went from low to high at will made the girl's face crumple like a ball of paper. Tears spilled down the sides of her face and dropped onto her pink sheets. She grabbed her large, purple pillow and embraced it, crying into it. All of the emotions she kept inside for months finally had a chance to be released. Whitney increased the volume of her voice along with the music that picked up its intensity. The girl looked up at the ceiling as though it were the sky.

"Why did it have to be me, Jesus? Why me?" She asked through tears she almost choked on. "What did I do to deserve this pain?"

"There were so many times, I wondered how I'd get through the night, I thought I took all that I could take, I didn't know my own strength…and I crashed down and I tumbled, but I did not...crumble..." Whitney sang.

Her thoughts traveled back to that night she glanced at that ominous white stick, her vision blurry from a lack of sleep. "Plus", it read. She couldn't believe it. Home pregnancy test after home pregnancy test showed the same result: "Plus". Her parents couldn't believe it. Their seventeen year old daughter was with child. Her father tried his best to restrain himself from going crazy. Her mother tried her best to be understanding but even she showed disappointment in her daughter. Her parents did not want to be absolute villains in the picture, so they offered to take her to see an OB/GYN. The daughter was surprised to receive the same news that rocked her world those few days ago and brought up so many emotions deep in her heart.

Jazmine, you are indeed pregnant.

The song slowed down to a quiet calm. Whitney sang with only a piano and strings, whispering the title of the song as it faded to a close. The sound of her cell phone ringing over and over didn't make her move a single fiber of her being.

I'm not getting up from here…ever.

"I didn't know my own strength…" Whitney proclaimed.

Yeah, if only I knew how much strength I had to be such a jackass at seventeen…

Her thought of that statement only made the situation worse. It brought more tears that wouldn't stop. She closed her eyes as tight as she could as she thought about so many questions.

What would she do with the eight week old baby in her body? How would her boyfriend react once he receives the news of whether she'll keep it or have an abortion? How would her parents respond to her decision?

The CD changed to the next song, Good News sung by Vanessa Bell Armstrong, who was one of her favorite Gospel singers. The pulsating bass and drums to back up the strong, vibrant choir made the mixed girl open her eyes.

"If you know how to pray the situation out, prayer is the answer; there is no doubt!" Vanessa professed as the choir chanted right behind her.

"I don't know what to think anymore," She whispered. "Lord, please give me a sign!"

"Girl, you in there?" A muffled voice asked from behind her bedroom door, followed by loud knocks that felt like they rattled the girl's ear drums. A minute of only the music playing in the background served as a response. "Girl, you better answer 'dis door 'fore I knock it down!" She yelled over the loud music.

The girl sat up and hugged her pillow tight, as though it were the only source of comfort. "Go away, Cindy! I wanna be alone!" She hissed back at the door.

"Jazzy, I heard the news! I wan' talk 'bout it wit' you! You know, girl talk!"

She snorted. She figured her boyfriend's loud mouthed, nosy little brother spilled the beans. "No way!"

"Fine 'den! I'm 'finna pick this lock 'n break in 'dere mah'self!"

Jazmine DuBois knew very well she would not have time to pick that lock. She feared her father Tom would have a fit over the thought that someone tried to break into her room and give her a giant lecture about possible rape and kidnapping. Jazmine leaped from her bed as though she were a superhero, leaving her pillow on the bed, and raced to the door. The picking at her lock stopped once she answered the door. Cindy McPhearson stood in the doorway, with a glimmering platinum necklace that almost blinded Jazmine. Cindy's usual smug look was wiped away from her face at the sight of her friend. The reddened eyes, the dark bags underneath them, the frizzy, unkempt hair that was usually kept immaculately perfect in its appearance, was gone.

Cindy's mouth dropped. She couldn't help from looking at Jazmine as though she were a ghost. "Damn, Jaz! You hurtin' fa' real, ain't you? You look like you ain't left 'dis room in days!"

Jazmine rolled her eyes. "No, everything's just fine and dandy, see?" She tried to put a façade smile on her face to prove Cindy wrong, only to burst into more tears. "I'm only crying out of sheer joy and happiness…" Her sarcasm seemed completely obvious.

Cindy shook her head while clicking her teeth with her tongue several times. "Naw hun, we got to do somethin' 'bout 'dis," Cindy entered the room, her arm around Jazmine's shoulders that went up and down with her depressing cries. "Damn, girl! You brought the whole Woodcrest Seventh Day Adventist Church Choir here in yo' room or what?" She glanced at the stereo system and reached for the pause button. "Church let out hours ago!"

After a few more cries, Jazmine stared directly into Cindy's eyes. "I don't know what to do, Cindy! My parents won't talk to me anymore, unless it's about me and what I've done wrong!" Jazmine sat on her bed with Cindy, her face in her hands. Her palms slid down her face. "I've tried prayers, talking with my pastor, everything!"

Cindy took her hand in hers. "Jazmine, I know what you goin' thru, hun, and it's gone' take mo' 'den prayer ta' fix it," She said, which made Jazmine's eyes grow in size. That was the first time in a long time she heard Cindy call her by her full first name. "I went thru 'da same thing wit' Riley. You jus' havin' some emotional problems, 'dat's all!"

"You mean Riley got you pregnant?"

Cindy covered her mouth with her hand, but she couldn't hold it in any longer. She burst out loud laughing, much to Jazmine's embarrassment. It took Cindy a few moments to stop. "Oh, hell naw! If Riley even tried, I'd cut his ass! Fa' real!"

"Oh…" Cindy's words appeared to go in one ear and out the other. Jazmine moaned, slightly bent over. "Uh oh…"

"Uh oh, whut?"

"Um, Cindy? Hand me that bag, please?" She pointed at the small, white bag sitting by Cindy's feet.

"What fo'? You 'bout to go candy shoppin'?"

"Because…because…oh God, just give it to me now! Hurry!" Jazmine threw a hand over her mouth. Cindy grabbed the bag as if it were about to be stolen by a mugger and tossed it to Jazmine who proceeded to release the toxic contents from her stomach into the container.

Cindy whistled. The quiet sound of the vomit dropping to the bottom of the bag made her groan and rub her stomach. "Damn! I hope I ain't gone' get sick like 'dat with Reezy's baby if we have one years from now…"

After another minute, Jazmine finally stopped and put the bag down. She wiped her mouth with a napkin she had in her pocket and threw it in the nearby trash bin. "I have to deal with this stuff every morning and afternoon. If Huey can make me like this, you're next, girl."

Cindy gasped so loudly, it seemed as though she almost had a heart attack. "Wait…the baby's Huey's?"

Jazmine turned away from Cindy to hide her blushing face. "Well, he's the only one I've slept with…and I only found out about being pregnant a few days ago."

"Oh shit!"

Jazmine snapped her head in her friend's direction. She furrowed her eyebrows and placed a hand on her hip. "Cindy, you know how I feel 'bout your dirty mouth on Sundays!"

Cindy threw her hands up palms out facing Jazmine, almost about to crack up in laughter. "Damn! I mean, dang! I mean, shoot! My bad, Jaz! You know how it be wit' me!"

Jazmine's head hung low while she swung her feet back and forth. "It hurts, Cindy! I mean, we didn't exactly protect ourselves, but…I didn't think I would be fertile when we did it…"

Cindy leaned back a little. "You mean y'all fucked fa' real?"

"Cindy!"

Cindy put a hand on Jazmine's shoulder. "My bad, damn! I mean, dang! Fuck, dang, I mean shoot!" She looked at Jazmine, who continued to stare at her as if she were a homeless schizophrenic about to mug her for some change to buy some liquor. "Forgive me, God! We can work 'dis out later, rite?" She looked up at the ceiling, then back at Jazmine. "He knows 'bout it, rite?"

Jazmine brought her knees up to her chin and let her feet hang off the edge of the bed. "That's the thing: he doesn't know yet."

"Whoa! 'Dats some heavy shit, girl!"

Jazmine glared at Cindy, but let her thoughts about her cursing vanish. She sighed. "Yeah…I hope he doesn't get upset," Jazmine picked imaginary lint from her blanket.

"If he really loves you fa' real fa' real, he'll have yo' back! Buh'lee dat!"

"That's true," She smiled and let out one quick laugh. "I can't wait to move out of here, so I don't have to deal with mommy and daddy anymore…"

Cindy smirked. "Shoot, jus' come on by my place! My homegirl moved out and I got the place to myself, so you can stay in her old room!"

Jazmine gasped. "No ship?"

"You mean shit, rite?"

"Cindy!"

"My bad, J! You too, God!"

"Forget about that!" Tears welled up in Jazmine's eyes. "Girl, I love you so much! Thank you sooooooooo much!" She bear hugged Cindy with so much emotion, Cindy had to smack her on the back to force Jazmine to release her tight hold.

"Yeah, but if you really do love me, you'll stop suffocatin' a sista!" Cindy took a minute to catch her breath. She had her hand on her chest as she took a few slow breaths. Cindy grabbed Jazmine by the hand and led her to the door. "Now go get dressed 'n let's go back to my place 'n finish talkin'…in private."

A tall, slim teenage boy stared at his open newspaper, scanning the most interesting updates of the day. The paper almost covered the entire top half of his body. The only thing visible to identify him turned out to be his giant afro, which stuck out well over the top of the newspaper and almost resembled the top of an evergreen tree, only it was black. He did his best to ignore the smacking sounds that came from his younger brother beside him as well as Granddad's constant chastising of the boy's behavior.

"'Dis cinnamon toast crunch is 'da shit!" He announced after he finished chewing some of the cereal in his mouth, which was wide open of course. Even after a full plate of pancakes, sausage, eggs, bacon and toast, the young boy wouldn't quit. "It tastes even betta' with sugar in it!"

"Boy, you better not make another mess at this table!" Their grandfather sitting on the other side of the table said. He took a bite of his golden brown toast. "And watch yo' language! And stop puttin' sugar in that cereal! It's already sweet enough as it is!"

The younger grandson stopped shoving spoonfuls of food in his mouth and threw the spoon into his nearly empty bowl. His lips pouched out along with his arms that crossed over his chest. "Dang, you ain't gotta be all uptight 'bout all 'dat, Granddad! And I won't mess up 'dis table!" He promised before he chugged his glass of orange juice. A few splashes of it landed on the table. "Ay, my bad…"

"Lawd…" Granddad grumbled a few curses under his breath. "Huey, hurry up 'n take this boy to his last day of school before I lose it 'n end up in jail for homicide!"

"Fine," Huey spent a few more seconds to browse through an article about the BP Oil Spill. He closed the paper and folded it before he threw it on the table. After Granddad tossed Huey the keys to Dorothy, he turned to look at his brother. "Let's go, Riley."

Without looking up at Huey, he waved his hand in a "go on" motion. "Go 'head, Huey! I'll be out 'dere in a minute! I gotta finish 'dis first!" Riley said while he chewed his food. He grabbed the cereal bowl and slurped down the milk. In a flash he ran out of the room, snatched his backpack out of the sofa and to the front door.

"And don't be late, boys!"

"Aight, whateva'!"

Before Huey started the car, Riley jumped in the passenger seat. "Told yo' ass I'd only be a minute," he smirked.

Huey glanced to the side at his brother using his peripheral vision. "Just be quiet, all right?" He turned the key in the ignition and revved the car while in park. Riley reached for the radio and turned it to the hip-hop and R&B station. Rick Ross & Styles P.'s "B.M.F." boomed from the Dorothy's speakers. Huey sighed and shook his head at the sounds Riley considered "'dat real shit".

"I think I'm Big Meech, Larry Hoover!" Riley rapped with the music, bobbing his head on beat. "Whippin' work, hallelujah!"

"I'm not even gonna ask why you're listening to that song."

"I ain't even want you to."

"Whatever."

Huey put the car in reverse and exited the driveway after a few cars passed behind him. He shifted to drive and zoomed down the street. They only had twenty minutes to get to class, something Huey gritted his teeth at. Riley always made him late.

One hand on the wheel, Huey reached into his pocket for his Lotus cell phone and opened it up. He pressed #2, preset for Jazmine's number. Huey let the phone ring until it reached her voicemail.

After the beep, Huey opened his mouth. "Jazmine, it's me. Sorry about missing your calls yesterday. I was under a lot of stress and-"

"Naw, it's 'cause he gay!"

Huey shoved Riley away. His stare kept him away, at least for the moment. "Shut up, Riley! Anyway, just call me back when you get this message. We need to talk," he said before he closed his cell phone and shoved it back into his pocket.

"Simp ass nigga…" Riley stared out of his window at Ed Wuncler Sr. High School that appeared a few blocks down. It was the largest high school in the entire city.

"I'm glad I never have to go back to that school again."

"Lucky ass nigga! You 'n Cindy only got graduation ceremony rehearsal for 'da next few days 'n 'dats it, while I got two mo' years ta' go!" Riley couldn't help but put a small smile on his face. "Ain't 'dat 'bout a bitch?"

"Not as much a bitch compared to what I'll have to deal with in college," Huey said before he pulled up at the curb in front of the school. Jazmine was fortunate to graduate a year earlier. She showed that she not only had the highest grades in school, but earned plenty of college credits by the time she was a sophomore. The thought of his girlfriend excelling over the years almost scared him.

"Ay, unlock the door!" Riley's slap on Huey's arm brought him back to reality. He looked at the backpack Riley had in his lap. Huey knew damn well there wasn't anything in there but some magazines, guns, candy 'n' who knows what else.

"Remember to wait out here at 3 so I can pick you up," he pointed at the small hill in front of the front gate.

"Aight, I'm out! Peace!" Riley got out and threw up a peace sign at his brother before he ran up to the gate. The bell rang, which meant there was five minutes until first period began. Huey sat with the car idling to call Jazmine one last time. After a few more minutes of calling and only hearing her voice mail message, he decided to give up and try later on in the day.

"Don't you move an inch, nigga."

A shotgun barrel came through Huey's window and stuck him in the side of his afro. Huey dropped his cell phone and threw his hands up. He looked to his left to find a blurry, black figure with a black ski mask over his face.

"You better not move or else you gone' get it."

He's got me confused with somebody else.

Huey reached with his left hand to his sword attached to the side of his seat. "Not if I don't get you first," he said. Huey grabbed hold of the hilt with both hands and jumped out the window with the blade aimed at his neck simultaneously at the sound of the flurry of buck shots aimed at his direction.

...

Note: Thanks for reading this first installment of "Choices". This is one fic I without a doubt wanted to write after "The Recovery" to really put my writing skills to the test. I have a question: should I continue to update this one or update my other fic "Walk in My Shoes" and work on this one later? I need your opinion!