Asazi
Chapter 4
I made it to Miami without any more bad things happening to me. Shawn was quiet most of the rest of the way 'home'.
I knew that there would be more acts of evil that Shawn would cast upon me. I had to keep it together though. It's only been three days since I left the hospital and it would be months before I could take him. Patience and endurance were all I needed.
I wondered about many things though. What life would be like other than Shawn's evils upon me. Would I get to go to school? Would I even be allowed out of the house? Small things like that captivated my head until we reached Miami. Then I smiled. The warm beaches everywhere, people walking around with nothing but swimsuits…it was the life I dreamed of…use to dream of.
I knew that we would probably go to the beach a lot, but only so Shawn could deliver his damned drugs. We drove through the metropolitan area of Miami and then farther south, past the boundaries of Miami and then into groups of apartment complexes and large homes.
We drove through areas like that for a few minutes then reached a city called Cutler Ridge. It's populations sign said about fifty thousand and I somehow knew that Shawn lived somewhere here. We turned off the highway that we took from Miami and into a shaggy neighborhood. Many African Americans were walking up and down the streets, all dressed very lightly…if they were dressed at all.
Shawn made a left at a 4-way intersection and drove down a two-lane road for about five minutes. Then made a right and almost immediately turned right again and we pulled into a driveway, hidden from the two-lane road because of a fifteen-foot wooden fence.
Shawn sat back and sighed a deep sigh. "Good old home," he said quietly and pointed up to an apartment building, specifically pointing to a third story door. The apartment building was four stories tall, many people sitting outside on the rails and porches of the stairs.
And most of them were looking straight at me. I wondered why. Is it because I'm white? So is Shawn. Only difference is the fact that I'm better than he is.
Shawn looked at me and said, "Follow me. I think you left your suitcases at one of the hotels so just follow me. We'll wash your clothes once a week." He got out of the car and I followed, no words coming from my mouth to acknowledge the fact that I heard him. Just doing what he said.
He walked up the first flight of stairs without saying a word to the people staring at us. On the second flight of stairs, Shawn increased his speed a little but a black man suddenly stepped in front of him, cutting him off.
Looking down at Shawn with cold, merciless eyes he said, "Where's my stuff?" 'Stuff' must have been another word for drugs, but since there were so many kids around, the man didn't want the kids to know what really was going on.
Shawn looked away and said, "Your stuff is a bank deposit box right now. If you want it, I'll get it but I can't tonight." Tonight? I glanced up into the sky; surprised to see it turned a fiery red. The sun was setting and it was creating a beautiful sight…sad how Shawn's voice alone could spoil it.
"I want it by lunch tomorrow. Delivered to my door at eleven A.M." He paused, his eyes glancing at me. "Or I get to have fun with your new pet."
Shawn's face snapped back at the black man, his voice raising, he yelled, "She's my dead sister's daughter. You won't touch her." Why not? You do.
The black man laughed in Shawn's face. "That's the deal good ol' Uncle Shawn." He had emphasized 'Uncle' with sarcasm and a few older teenage boys around laughed. The black stepped out of Shawn's way and let us pass onto the third flight.
We made it to Shawn's apartment, room 302. He unlocked the six different locks he had on there and entered his apartment. I followed him in and looked around; there was a TV on the floor in one corner of the room, a couch opposite of the TV, two windows, a bookshelf, a doorway leading to a small kitchen and a closed door that probably led to the bathroom. There was also a ceiling fan with lights sturdily attached to the ceiling.
I walked into the kitchen as Shawn plopped himself onto the couch and thoughtfully gazed at the ceiling. The kitchen had a door inside of it. I curiously opened it to see a small bedroom with a stereo on a nightstand next to a skinny cot.
Looks like your profession has taken a little out of the house, I thought happily. I started to turn around when the back of a hand completely engulfed my vision and pain exploded into my head as I fell back from the blow.
I stumbled backwards, tripping over the dusty cot and falling onto a carpeted floor. "OOF!" I opened my eyes to see Shawn grinning evilly at me…I knew what was coming.
I made no effort to resist him. I banged my head on the wall but this time the wall wasn't hard. It only opened up the gash on the back of my head and made me bleed. I began to whimper in fear and pain as Shawn walked toward me and…
As he hurt me, I made no resistance. There was nothing I could do. And in probably half-an-hour, he stopped, picked me up and carried me into the living room. Then he threw me onto the sofa and went into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.
As my eyes ran out of tears I began to remember my song that I made up in the car on my way to Cutler Ridge.
I hummed it to myself over and over again and murmured the words; quietly so Shawn wouldn't come back…my life was hell. And it would only get worse, judging by the black man's threat to me…
-_-
I awoke to Shawn slamming the front door and walking outside. There were a few birds chirping outside but no sunlight coming in through the windows. I got to my feet and realized that I had slept on the couch all night long.
After looking myself over, I realized that he had cut my short's legs by about six inches. Now it was like wearing underwear and my shirt's sleeves were gone and torn down the middle a little so you could see my chest if I bent down. I'm only six. I won't have anything for at least six more years…what a pervert!
I found a watch under the middle seat of the couch and it read: 8:09. So Shawn went to get the drugs that were in the bank deposit. It wasn't hard to realize that it wasn't cash in the bank deposit box that the black man brought up in his confrontation with Shawn. If it was cash, why wasn't it getting interest in an account? A bank deposit box is safe and efficient.
I had to admit it was pretty clever. But not clever enough; after all, me, a six-year-old, figured it out kinda fast.
I put the watch on around my wrist and walked around the apartment. I looked out the windows and saw partly cloud skies, the sun being blocked out by one. I smiled and—
SLAM! I jumped and turned to look at the front door. Shawn was back, staring at my wrist. "Where'd you get that watch?"
"Under the couch," I replied with a level voice though my mind was shaking with fear.
He frowned at me and walked over to me, that look in his eyes told me that even though he had messed with my body last night, he was about to do it again…, "So rape me already," I screamed.
A look of complete shock covered his face, then amazement…then a smile. "What?"
"So rape me," I said again, this time not so loud.
Shawn laughed a cold-hearted laugh. "Since you asked," and he stepped toward me. Instead of sitting down and starting to whimper, I grabbed at his shirt and ripped it off, smiling. Not smiling because of that, smiling because he was walking right into it.
"Oh! So you do like it? Then let's go—," he was cut off by my fist into his privates. He started to buckle over when I delivered a kick into the same area. He coughed, his eyes blinked once and he fell to the floor, shocked and in pain. I ran for the door and swung it open, stepping out of the apartment. I turned right and started to run when—
SMACK! I flew sideways into a brick wall. A black hand had whapped me upside my head. I heard the same voice as the black man from yesterday say, "Whoops!" Somebody laughed and said, "Can't you tell the difference between a bitch and sella'?"
The black man replied, "Nope. Shawn's both." They, four I think, all laughed. I opened my dizzy eyes and saw four men all huddled around me. One was touching my chest and the other reaching for my shorts.
They were all black, but their leader, the man who threatened me said, "No! We wait and go talk to Shawn first. If he doesn't have the cigs, this girl will experience…undelightful pleasantries and good ol' Shawn with commit suicide…with help." They laughed again, stepped past me and walked into Shawn's apartment.
I slowly got to my feet, my nose bleeding and my lower lip busted. I turned and ran to another end of the building. I heard them laugh a few times and then I heard Shawn scream for a few seconds…then it faded away…
I tried to keep calm and focused but to have someone killed nearby…my breathing got fast as the four men exited the apartment, laughing and making (what they thought were funny) gestures. They didn't even see me as they walked down the flights of stairs that started ten feet from where I was. When they got into a car and got away, I slowly walked back to the apartment and looked inside.
I screamed. Shawn was hanging by a rope that was attached to the ceiling fan. His hands were still gripping the rope even though he was obviously dead. His eyes wide open and his mouth wide open, as if still trying to breathe. I screamed again, then regained my control and looked around.
The room was still in orderly fashion, still the same except for a not that was on the floor underneath Shawn's hanging feet.
Trembling, I walked over to it and read it—I didn't touch it, just read it. It read:
My life is a fraud. Nobody loves me and nobody cares. So I didn't eat worms, I did it faster than that.
That was all it said but it said a lot. It was obviously fake, written by one of the black men that killed him but I wasn't feeling any thing. No emotion except for happiness. And what's wrong with happiness?
Isn't your goal in life to be happy? As far as I was concerned, it was, only I added another rule to happiness. Whatever it takes to be happy, be happy.
I mentally smiled and left the room.
I left the apartment complex and stood on the sidewalk next to the two-lane road and looked both ways. One way went deeper into the city; the other led to the ocean. I started walking toward the ocean. I was no longer with Shawn The Perv, no longer with a drug dealer. I was free…
Author's Note
So is it getting a little better? The darkest parts are over so if you've read this far, thanx because now it begins…