Alright so here is my oneshot! Lol I hope you guys enjoy it and leave COMMENTS PLEASE!!!! thanks! oh and for all of you people reading Sweet Dreams or Beautiful Nightmare, it will be updated soon...sorry my microsoft is actin up and my story is saved there and this story was typed using note pad.....sooo ITS COMING SOON I PROMISEE :0)! Anyway, enjoy and leave wonderful comments!
Disclaimer: I do not own the boondocks, they belong to Aaron McGruder!!
"Case 9009127, here is your cell, with a blanket, pillow, and toilet. Please keep your cell clean, and in a neat and orderly fashion. Breakfast is at 8:30 A.M. Lights out at 11:30 P.M. No exceptions. Please inform us of any questions."
That's all I told her. Case 9009127. She was someone else on the streets, either a prostitute, homeless, or both, and I was just another person probably giving her instructions. Nothing new to her I assume. She was defiant when she walked in, or dragged in, but she had calmed down after being told she could leave when her situation was cleared. I didn't know what to say to her. All I could do was listen when she came in for intervention.
"Ay, Huey, what time my next shift start? I gots to keep my gangsta face fresh if I wanna keep trappin dem h-, I mean prostitutes fo you on the street." Riley was the same as usual, ghetto and thugged out. Nothing had changed since we were little kids. The only thing was our work, and what we did.
When Riley and I were little, Granddad had opened an institute for the "pimp's dream". He did it to keep women off the streets and in school, and managed to pick up a few dates every once in a while. But ever since he passed, Riley and I have kept this place running, using Riley's street cred, and my abilities, to help keep women off the street. Translation: Riley gets the girls, I save them. But that makes me no superman. I don't like this job. It's stressful, hard, and downright disguisting. I've seen girls of all types in here, every age. It doesn't amuse me when a case like 9009127 comes up. Just another sad woman who wants nothing more than a bed, meal, and her pimp to protect her. I don't even know why I hang around here. But it feels as if something wakes me up in the morning saying your one day closer to your destiny, and I drag my black butt outta bed, and get here, waiting for that "destiny"; the one that hasn't shown up in almost ten years.
"Just get some rest and I'll call you in the morning once we get some of these women out of the cells and into a safer unit.
Leave your phone on, because it might be soon." I rubbed my forehead, and closed my eyes hoping this argument was over.
"Yeah, okay. Ay, just don't call between the hours of 12:00 and 4:00 unless you wanna hear headboards crackin. Me and my wife gettin used to this newlywed thing." Oh and I forgot to mention Riley is married. After all those years of trappin women, he claims he finally found the love of his life. And she wasn't in the streets. She was coming out of a courthouse for all the right reasons. I guess that was good enough for him.
As I walked down the cells, I heard sobs and the sound of someone throwing up. I went around and noticed all the lights were out except for cell 32, Case 9009127. I ran to her cell, trying to see if something happened, or if she was just trying to get attention, something done by prostitutes needing to feel "loved". When I arrived, I saw someone sitting in the corner, hair all over the place, face in her knees. She was a mess. And not only did she look bad, she smelled bad, too.
Or at least the toilet did.
"Hey, is something wrong? Do you need medical help?" I looked confused. No one had ever done this since I had been here.
Most women were either excited to be free or didn't want anything to do with the association. But this was different.
"Huh? Oh, ya, I'm good, thanks. Hey, do you have anything to settle my stomach?" Her big green eyes locked with mine, and the contact was intense. It felt as if I had known her my whole life. And she used proper english which also startled me a bit. Either the women didn't know it or didn't know how to use it.
I grabbed her hand, and led her to the kitchen downstairs. She was hunched over, head down, and silent the whole way. She didn't complain once about anything going on, and she had no questions. She just sat there, drinking ginger ale as if it was water. As she drank, I looked her over. She had long, curly brownish blondish hair, with a familiar face. She had a nice build, probably from all the running she had done, but she looked worn.
"Hey, thanks for the drink." She smiled a crooked smile, and looked down. "I was wondering, if I could ask your name?"
"Yeah, it's Huey, Huey Freeman. I own, or shall I say run this place. What about you?" I looked at her long hair as it ran down her back, and tried to think of what her name might be. Probably something ghetto or hard to pronounce. Usually is in this siuation.
"Jazmine, Jazmine Dubois, but they call me Caramel. Well that's my street name. You can probably tell from my skin color."
Jazmine let out a small laugh, but quickly stopped as if something inside of her had clicked.
"Wait, you said your name was Huey Freeman? Look at me." She walked from her chair to were I was standing, and she put her face about 3 feet away from mine.
"Wait, what is this about? Do I know-" I was disrupted by Jazmine's lips that all of a sudden locked with mine. I was stunned, yet I kissed back. Because I realized that I knew those lips, that scent, the shape of her mouth. It was her.
It was Jazmine Dubois. My destiny. The reason I woke up everyday for ten years, the reason I waited here in this hell hole for something to come, the reason I wouldn't let go of her when she pulled away.
I hope you enjoyed this oneshot!! lOl leave wonderful comments!!! and my other story will be updated soon! Love you guys!!
