Waking up the next day was rough with my arm still in pain from the frozen blade piercing my skin. Ashanti was able to return home from the hospital with only a few stiches, but Tory—though uninjured—was the most impacted by the events that unfolded.
I walked out of my room holding my bandaged arm to see my mom sitting at the table in the living room. She held her head in her palm with a frown on her face.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
“I’m good. What about you, though?”
She looked me in the eyes. “I’m not good, Zayn. That man who attacked you and killed all of those people was the person I’ve been taking care of for the past two years.”
My jaw dropped. “You serious?”
“Yes, I’m serious. What I don’t understand is why he did it. He had anger issues, yes, but he never wanted to hurt anyone. It doesn’t make sense.”
I decided not to tell my mom or the police what really happened at the supercenter. Being followed everywhere like Ashanti was not a life I wanted to live.
“Are you hungry?” she asked, standing out of her seat. “I’m about to start the beef stew.”
“Nah, I’m good. I got plans to eat somewhere else.”
Last night before leaving the hospital, Ashanti’s mother invited me and Tory over for Sunday dinner as a thank you for saving her daughter. The thought was appreciated, but I wasn’t sure if Tory was up for it.
“Alright,” my mom replied, grabbing her cell phone off the table. “Have fun, but be safe. I’m going to call the agency and see if they have another case open. Rent is due in two weeks, and I may have to use our little bit of savings if there’s no work available.”
“You’ll get somethin’, Mom. Don’t worry too much about it.”
She put the phone to her ear and looked away. I hated the feeling of us struggling, but it was like this sometimes, even if my mom kept steady work. It was almost frustrating enough to consider looking for a job to help out.
Stepping out of the house, I decided to head over to Tory’s spot first. He lived in the projects to the left of the complex with his older brother, Darius. Other than Tory being shorter and having a lighter complexion, the two looked the same, almost twins even. But that’s where the similarities end because their lifestyles couldn’t be more different.
Walking into the yellow brick building that was dimly lit, me and the security guard gave each other a nod before I made my way up the stairs to the second floor where Tory lived. The front door was unlocked—I had texted him five minutes prior to say I was coming through.
A faint smell of weed permeated the air after stepping inside, which led me to believe that Darius was either home or recently left out. Only I occupied the tan living room until Tory walked out of his bedroom.
“What’s good, bro,” he greeted me with a dap while avoiding eye contact. I could tell he wasn’t happy.
“I’m cool. You good?”
“Yeah, I’m straight. Been tryin’ to process everything that went down yesterday, you know? But it’s whatever. Let me do one more round of Street Fighter and I’ll be ready to go.”
We went into his room where posters of video game characters were plastered on the walls. I sat at the edge of his bed while he took a seat in the gaming chair in front of his TV and computer monitor.
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“Hey, can I ask you somethin’ real quick?” he asked.
“Yeah, what’s up?”
He sat quietly for a moment before questioning, “You think chaos is the only way to make change? Like if people don’t hear you, is violence the only way to get their attention?”
His words had me stuck. I knew his mind was on something serious, but I wasn’t expecting this.
“To be honest, bro, I don’t know how to answer that. Sometimes, it do be feelin’ like words ain’t enough. But I don’t know if violence is the answer after that. It gotta be somethin’ else you can do to be seen and heard besides chaos.”
“Cool, cool,” he mumbled. “I’m just asking ‘cause that old head said a lot while you two were fightin’. The part about our voices being silenced and only destruction can create change kinda hit me. I mean, I ain’t really believe him, but sometimes, it does feel that way, you know? It’s crazy.”
“Yeah, I feel you.”
Tory was shaken up by the incident more than I realized, and it was clear the old man had a strong, negative influence on him. The right things to say wasn’t flying out my mouth at the time to change that, so I decided to chill back and listen to my music while hoping the game would have a positive effect on him.
“This’ll only take a couple minutes,” he told me, choosing his fighter. He said minutes, but trust me when I say it only took a couple of seconds.
I felt bad for ‘Ray631’, the player who went up against Tory online. Before the opening hook of the song playing through my headphones could finish, Ray631 got his ass whooped. Looking at the health bar of Tory’s fighter, his opponent didn’t land a single hit. Perfect.
“That was fast as hell,” I exclaimed while hitting pause on my phone to stop the music. Tory went by the name ‘PlotArmor69’ online, and for good reason: he’d never lose. “Crazy how you countered his move and hit’em with an endless combo.”
He turned off the game console and got out the chair. “Yeah, at least I’m good at defending myself in a game, you know? Can’t say the same for real life.”
“What’chu mean?”
“I’m just saying, like, I feel powerless, bro. I got you and Ashanti hurt ‘cause I couldn’t do anythin’. I should be dead, and it feel like I cheated death; like I’m not even supposed to be here right now.”
I got up and told him, “Nah, don’t even think like that. You would’ve done the same thing for me or her, and I know that for a fact. You ‘pose to be here just like I am.”
He looked away with a face full of doubt. “You sure ‘bout that? Cause if Ashanti ain’t use her crazy time manipulation powers, I wouldn’t be here. This ain’t how life was supposed to go.”
Seeing him feel some way about this, I had to get real for a minute. No more waiting on the perfect words to speak.
“You should be happy you’re still alive. You know how many people out here dying who had big dreams but couldn’t achieve’em? You still here, bro. You could be somethin’ special. You already ahead of the game—you got thousands of people watching and following you. They see somethin’ in you. If you not gonna live for yourself or even for me, do it for them.”
He looked down at the wooden floor near his collection of sneakers before nodding and dapping me. “Thanks, bro. I appreciate that.”
“It’s all good. We not gonna waste this chance at life.”
“You right,” he replied as we walked out of his room. “Aight, let’s go see your girl.”
I laughed. “She ain’t my girl.”
On our way out of the front door, a whole goon squad stampeded inside the apartment with Tory’s brother, Darius, leading the pack. He wore a tank top that showed off his tatted arm sleeves.
“Yo, where y’all goin’?” he demanded to know.
“To a friend’s house,” Tory answered, already walking with me out of the front door.
We heard Darius’s voice from the apartment hallway. “Ay, Baby T, come back here.”
Tory sighed and turned back around. He hated when his brother called him that.
“What?” he sneered at Darius, who glared back at him like he was gonna knock his head off.
“Watch the way you speak to me.” He put his finger in Tory’s face and sized him up. “Now I heard about what went down at CJ’s crib. That better not be who y’all goin’ to hang with.”
“Nah, it’s somebody else,” I said on Tory’s behalf, who was giving Darius a dirty look.
“Aight, ‘cause them boys he beefin’ with are the opps. We don’t mess with them. They see you,” he pointed at Tory, “and they might try somethin’ to get to me. So stay away from them, you hear me?”
“Clear,” Tory replied under his breath.
Darius dug into the pockets of his jeans as the crew he came in with started throwing bags of weed on the living room table. He took out two twenty-dollar bills. “Take this in case y’all need somethin’.”
Tory scoffed. “We good. Let’s go, Z.”
We walked out of the apartment and left the conversation at that. Thing is, Tory didn’t hate his brother. It was the total opposite of that, in fact. What he did hate was the gang and drug activity that Darius was involved in, especially after their parents died in a home invasion a few years back. The thought of losing his brother to some street mess made Tory distance himself from Darius, despite the reality that his brother’s lifestyle was the main source of income keeping a roof over their heads.
Maybe someday, those two will get on the right track. Together.