By the
time the two of us got to Chantel’s house, the black sky was turning dark blue.
The pale light made the sky seem dusty.
I walked into the kitchen fully expecting a
bloodbath and the body of Hersh Waters, but Chantel said he never came. As if I
got zapped, I realized Hersh must have gone to the White Cobras. He was their
original leader. He would be their leader now that Ricky was dead. Fuck my life.
Hersh would come after me. He would come after Chantel. He would take Ella. I
prayed he wouldn’t.
Ignoring my prayers, God decided to fuck me
over. Hersh Waters showed up in the middle of the night. Three in the morning
to be exact. I was awoken by shattering glass, breaking the illusion that my
life could ever be happy. Hersh Waters and the last of the White Cobras invaded
the house. Luckily, the cops were there to help.
Hersh had advanced on Chantel. She backed up
into the kitchen. She had to face him herself. Her fingers curled around the
knife handle.
“You trapped me in a cage,” Chantel said.
“You deserved it you miserable little wench,”
he spat.
“What could I have possibly done to deserve
what you did to me?”
“I saved you from that hell-hole. Without me,
you wouldn’t even be here. You owe me. Without me you’d still be a common whore
sucking every dick you saw!”
“Nothing justifies what you did to me!”
Her knife was slotted in-between his ribs. I
wondered what justified murder. Just like she fileted a fish, she sliced
through her abuser. I didn’t know a human held so much blood. She was drenched
in it. It soaked into the wooden floor. She screamed. Her wail shredded my
eardrums and I clutched my head. She vomited and sobbed. It was as if she was
purging Hersh from her mind and soul. His glassy eyes stared at the ceiling. Warm
blood and cold skin were an odd combo.
I heard Earl’s voice and the police team
arresting the gang members. Maybe they would arrest me too. No, they couldn’t.
I was Ella’s father. The creatin lying under my shoe was not her father and
never was.
Ella was mine.