Once it was a little past 2 PM I decided to head out to the bank.
Clayton had written down the address to the place Kingsley was staying at on a post-it note—along with instructions on how I could speak to him directly.
The house was located in a run-down neighborhood. The houses all had steel bars covering their windows with chain link fences and untrimmed yards. The sidewalks were cracked and tattered with weeds sprouting up from craters where chunks of missing cement once were.
I went through the broken gate at Kingsley’s house and knocked on the screen door. The house was bigger than all the others on the block from what I could see, but it was still just as worn. It looked like the perfect location to house a small army of crackheads.
I heard muffled barking and music coming from the other side of the door. Wearily, I looked up and down the street—waiting on the front step for the door to unlatch. The chain rattled for a moment, then the door clicked and eased open. A man stood behind the door, his eye peering through the crack.
“What?” he asked brashly.
“I’m here to talk with Kingsley.”
The man squinted his eyes, “What you talkin’ about?”
“I got business that concerns him and him only.”
“What kinda business?”
“I’m with one of his runners. I gotta deliver an important message to him.”
The man stepped back and unhinged the screen door, allowing me to come inside. The whole place reeked of weed and booze. Empty cereal boxes and other types of trash were scattered all over the counters in the kitchen. Multiple men and women were sprawled out on the couch in the living room, asleep—seemingly in some sort of drug-induced stupor.
“What. In. The. Hell…”
“Lift your arms,” the man commanded. He patted me down briefly before strolling over to the kitchen to open the fridge. Casually eyeing the selection, he pulled out a beer and pointed it towards the hallway. “He’s in the room at the very end.”
The door at the end of the hallway was closed shut. I debated whether I should knock first, or just barge in. I wasn’t sure of the proper etiquette in a situation like this.
After some prolonged internal deliberation, I reluctantly decided to knock and then opened the door right after like I was at a doctor’s office.
Inside the room, there were three men sitting in chairs, playing a basketball video game. One of the men was gigantic, the other two were more average sized, but still not anything to be taken lightly. They all stared at me as soon as I entered in awkward silence.
“Which one of you is Kingsley?”
The men continued to stare at me without saying a word. I straightened myself, and cleared my throat.
“...I’ve got an offer for you.”
A man wearing a black and white hat with arm tattoos and a sparkling gold chain leaned forward to set down his controller. “Who are you?” he asked coldly.
“I’m Daymond Miller, Clayton’s brother… I’m here to—”
The men erupted in hysterical laughter, looking at each other as if I just told them the most gut-busting joke they’ve ever heard.
“Why are you dressed like that?” the big man howled, “Did you just get back from church or some shit?”
The others rolled with laughter as they rocked back and forth in their seats. For a few painful moments, I just stood there—waiting impatiently for them to finish. Kingsley wiped the tears forming in his eyes. I could feel my body becoming increasingly warm, my pulse quickened with every exhale.
“Boy, you must be stupid as hell!” said Kingsley. “What you doing here?”
“He’s dressed up like one of them Mormons, Boss. He’s obviously here to spread the good news.”
A pit of anger boiled deep within my stomach. The heat in my body continued to rise, as if someone had sparked a fire inside of me.
“What made you bring your bitch ass to our neighborhood?”
“Where you get those dress shoes from? My uncle has some that look just like ‘em.”
“You tellin’ me that Clayton called his daddy on me? You gotta be fuckin’ jokin—”
“Shut the fuck up!” I screamed. The room became silent. The men’s eyes pierced me like thrusts from a sharpened blade.
“Clayton almost got killed running your product last night! Some guys pulled up on him and robbed him at gunpoint. I’ll pay for the whole stash and more, just let Clayton go, and we will never see you again. We’ll all act like this never happened.”
Kingsley leaned back in his chair, his face awash with amazement. He looked at the two men sitting beside him as if he didn’t understand a single word that I said. His attention then shifted back onto me. His face twisted into an insidious scowl as he studied me like I was a foreign object.
“I’ve never seen you around here… You got any idea who I am?”
I curled my hand up into a fist, I felt waves of rage crashing in on me like I was stranded at sea in the middle of a storm.
“Hey I’m talking to you, bitch!”
Kingsley looked like he was about ready to jump out of his seat at me. I clenched my jaw and tried to slow down my heart rate.
“Please, I just came here to pay. I don’t want to make this any bigger than it should be.”
“Now… What do I look like if word gets out that one of my runners got hustled by some nobodies?”
I gritted my teeth, “You look like someone who got his money back and got a new runner.”
Kingsley looked at the men beside him and grinned, “Yeah... You know... that ain't gonna work for me. I got too much respect to be playin’ around with some little bitch who snitched on me to his daddy.”
“You can't be too popular if you're out here threatening 16-year-old boys into running your product for you.”
Kingsley slammed his hands against the chair's armrest, launching himself up and walking towards me. The two men followed close behind him.
“You think you hard, don't you? You think some dumb ass white-collar choir boy like you can come to my hood and intimidate me?”
Kingsley grabbed a half full glass of whiskey from his table and took a swig. Him and his men gathered around me, backing me up against the wall.
“I’m not trying to intimidate you,” I said. “I'm no snitch. I don't care about what y'all got going on here or how you handle your business. I'm just asking that you let me give you the money, and then leave my brother out of this.”
I reached into my pocket and pulled out a wad of cash.
“The stash was worth around $800 right? This is $1000 cash. Just take it and you’ll never see me again.”
Kingsley raised his eyebrows. He snatched the wad of money from my hand and examined it thoroughly. He flipped through each bill quietly, scanning each one carefully before folding up the cash and slipping it into his jeans.
He chuckled and shook his head, “Alright, okay choir boy… Let me tell you somethin’. This block here, and that one there, and that one over there... this all mine. You understand?” he slammed his glass on the ground, shattering it into thousands of pieces. “That means you're surrounded. There ain't no place to run. You're in my territory, I own all this shit which means I own you! You got me?”
The big guy standing beside him grabbed me by my collar and pinned me up against the wall. Kingsley stared me dead in the eyes, his face inches away from mine, “You ain’t gonna demand shit from me. You will address me as nothing less than king when you come in my house. Now… you needa give me one good reason not to kill your punk ass right here.”
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“If I’m not back in ten minutes, Clayton calls the police to report a murder. Good luck trying to hide a murder scene in ten minutes, dumbass—”
Kingsley’s fist pounded into my stomach, knocking out all of my wind and dropping me to my knees. I wheezed for breath but he slugged me, hammering my face into the hardwood floor.
Him and his men charged me, a barrage of kicks and punches swarmed my body. I began to see blood leaking onto the floor as my vision blurred.
“Go ahead beg for me, bitch! Beg!” Kingsley screamed.
I felt my body crumbling beneath the crushing blows, firing signals of sharp pain through me with each thunderous impact. The stomps and punches came frantically from all directions, their fists blackened my vision as my lip busted open. As the beating continued, I felt the bone in my nose snap. Each ragged inhale was a desperate plea for the thrashing to stop.
“You think you hard, right? You think you hard? I wanna see you bow down to me!”
I struggled on the floor, my body felt like it was stuffed with eighty pounds of gravel. I could barely move—but even if I could, there’s no way I was bowing down to him—so I fought to lift myself up from the ground, slipping in my own blood.
Kingsley grabbed me by the back of my shirt and dragged me to my feet. Blood dripped from my nose and onto his floor as he forced me through the hallway to his front door. His foot slammed the door open, before he hurled my body onto the grass.
I gasped and wheezed as I painfully flipped onto my back—trying to remain as still as possible. My entire body ached with unbearable pain—it felt as if all my bones had been replaced with razor blades and sewing needles.
Kingsley stepped off his front step and reached behind his back—trudging towards me. He pulled out a silver pistol, cocked it, and aimed it at my head.
I placed my hand softly on my stomach. From the corner of my eye, I could see that my white dress shirt was stained with dark puddles of red. I tried to steady my breath, but it only came out as high-pitched wheezes.
He smiled at me maniacally, “Don't worry. I'll let your brother go, no sweat on me,” he placed the tip of the gun against my forehead. “When I find out where you and your little brother live. I'll kill your whole fuckin’ family, and as a bonus prize, I’ll be sure to make it slow.”
My eyes squinted against the brightness of the sun. I turned away from the nozzle of the gun and stared out at the street. The next door neighbor was monitoring their kids outside as they ran through the sprinklers, while at another house, a husband and wife were outside cleaning their car with a sponge and a pale bucket filled with water.
I sluggishly focused my attention back towards Kingsley.
He placed the gun in the waistline of his jeans and walked back to his house, “Congratulations, you stupid ass motherfucker.”
The door slammed shut.
The stabbing pain in my body had been replaced by a tingling numbness, but the grass below me was nice and cool. I decided to lay there for just a moment longer. I closed my eyes, and listened to the sound of the playing children.
—break—
My face was so swollen and bruised that I was nearly unrecognizable. I had to go by the emergency room in order to stitch up some of the gashes and realign my nose. They had begged for me to stay overnight for more treatments, but I refused. Truthfully, I didn’t want to be seen by anybody.
I started to feel even worse than I looked when I had to enter my home. Kiana’s face filled with horror at the sight of me, like I was some kind of monster. Her eyes welled up with tears, and she cried until she didn’t have any more tears left.
Clayton was frozen, I assume from shock. I could sense an immense burden of guilt hovering over him—he couldn’t even look at me.
Kiana’s eyes trembled as tears fell down her cheeks, “D–Daymond… wh–wha—” she stuttered. After walking through the door, I tried to reach my room as quickly as I could.
“Not right now, Kiana.”
I darted past her to my bedroom, and shut the door.
For the rest of the day, feelings of sorrow and fear weighed heavily upon our home. The terror emanating off of Clayton and Kiana was palpable—I knew they feared for my safety, as well as their own. After lightly massaging my wounds for a while. I pulled out the drawer at my nightstand and took out a handheld mirror to examine my face. The sight made my stomach turn.
I told myself right then, that I would not leave my room until my injuries were healed.
Taking in a deep weary breath, I reached in my pocket for my cell phone—then dialed a number and held it to my ear.
It rang twice, then the person on the other end answered. “Hey Sidney, this is Daymond,” I said.
Sidney was in charge of HR at my clinic. I had only called her a few other times before, but she was always very kind and understanding.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but I got robbed by some thugs and ended up in the hospital.”
“Oh my—” her voice crackled through the cell phone. “I’m so sorry to hear that! Are you alright?”
“Yeah I’m fine, but I’m gonna have to take a leave of absence for the next couple weeks or so. The doctor advised me to heal properly before returning. Do you think you could please reschedule my appointments?”
“Of course! I hope you feel better soon.”
“Thanks.”
…
I changed into a t-shirt and shorts, and laid down on the bed.
Kiana unlatched my door and stuck her head through the opening. “U–Umm… I brought you this…” she held up an ice pack before coming in to set it on the bed beside me. Her voice was shaking and her eyes were tinged with red—borderlining on bloodshot. “Let me know if you need anything else…”
“Thank you. Could you please tell Clay to come in here?”
“Okay…”
Kiana left, and shortly after Clayton shuffled in through the doorway. His hands were in his pockets, and he continued to stare down at the floor.
He swallowed, “I–I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Day…”
He pressed his lips together, his body trembled as his breathing became erratic.
I motioned for him to calm down, “I didn’t want you to come in so I could lecture you.”
His eyes glossed over with mist that culminated into streams of tears, “Th–There gonna kill… you and Kiana. We’ll be killed… and it's all my fault!”
I grabbed his arm and yanked him onto the bed beside me, “Keep your voice down,” I demanded. “Kiana is in the other room… None of us are gonna die, Clay.”
“B–But—”
“But nothing, I’m not gonna let them get to you. Now chill out.”
I placed my palm against his back and waited for his breathing to steady a bit more, “Alright… Now, I need you to tell me what Kingsley’s name is.”
Clayton scrunched his eyebrows, “His name? Like his full real name?”
“Yes.”
Clayton looked up towards the ceiling as if he would find it written there, “Uhh… I–I don’t know.”
I slammed my bruised face down against my hands.
“S–Sorry! He never told me!”
I wiped my hands down my face and let them drop onto the bed. “What about one of his main guys? There was a big dude, probably like 6 '6, and another guy who had face tattoos and wore an orange hat…”
“That was probably Big Jax and Rae. I don’t know Big Jax’s real name, but Rae’s younger brother goes to school with me—he's the one who introduced me to the group. Rae was a senior at school when I was a freshman… I think his name was Lerae Sharpe.”
I exhaled out my nose and let the back of my head sink down into my pillow.
I had to figure out the real names of Big Jax and Kingsley fast. I had no idea how long it would take them to find out where me and Clayton lived, and I couldn’t afford to wait another night. If I was lucky, maybe Rae would know the names of the others.
“Looks like I’m gonna be busy tonight… Just when I was ready to move past this shit…”
I had no idea what dangers awaited me in their dreams, and I never killed more than one person in a single night before. Even so, there was no way I was gonna let those assholes get their hands on my siblings. Over my fuckin dead body.
“Okay, that’s all. You can go get ready for bed.”
Clayton looked at me for a moment, his face clouded with worry, “What are you gonna do?”
“Handle it.”
I glanced over at Clayton. His mouth was poised as if he were about to ask another question—but he didn’t. Instead, he lowered his head and walked out of the room.
I turned so I could see the time on my bedside clock—it was 9 PM.
If I had to guess, Rae wouldn’t be going to sleep until later on in the night. I didn’t plan on leaving my room, so I figured I might as well enter the Dreamscape and wait for him there. I needed as much time as possible to make sure I could finish the job, but I felt completely restless. Profound amounts of searing rage still coursed through my veins. Ever since I was little, I had issues with controlling my anger. I had learned to bottle it up as I’d gotten older instead of lashing out and flying off the rails. But whenever I got like this, it was difficult to calm myself down—I found that forcing myself to remain motionless while listening to soft white noise worked best. So I turned on some white noise, clicked off my lamp and forced myself to keep my eyes shut.
It took around a couple of hours of me tossing and turning, but eventually my consciousness entered the Dreamscape.
I stood amidst the endless black void that had become so familiar to me. As I walked around, my footsteps echoed into the vast emptiness. I paused for a moment, then smugly slipped my hands into my pockets. This was my dream after all, I might as well kill some time while I waited.
A heavenly realm of white clouds and glittering gold manifested around me, cutting through every inch of the darkness—replacing it with light and wind. I stood weightless in the air with no ground in sight as the sun beamed brightly upon my face. I touched the skin on my cheeks.
“At least here I’m not sore and miserable…”
Launching myself upward, I soared high into the air and through the clouds.
Within the Dreamscape, time could stretch and shrink within my own dream, at least to a certain extent. As I waited for Rae’s dream to manifest, I made a decision. If I were to die tonight due to some invincible beast, I wanted this to be my last memory.
I started to think about how fearsome that demon was which I encountered in Tyler’s dream. I remembered the terror that flowed through me when I realized I could lose my life…
Then I thought about my little brother and sister. How alone they would be if I were unable to make it back to them—how their lives would be in danger, and how helpless they would feel. Without my intention, a beautiful picture of the three of us together was painted across the sky, splashed in watercolor. It was an image of all of us during last year’s All County Fair. We were battling each other, trying to see who could spin the biggest wad of cotton candy without it falling from the cone.
I stared at the painting fondly, and as a beaming smile came to my face, I whispered, “Don’t worry. No matter what… I’m coming home.”