me go early, but remorse for a mu’fucka like Perry was something I couldn’t even fake. I hated him. He deserved to die, and the older I got, the more I truly understood that I had done the right thing. Nobody knew the connection I had with my sister. Everyone kept saying that my actions weren’t justified because
The day I said goodbye to lockup, I promised myself I would never go back. Doing that much time as a child had turned my heart cold. I had changed, but it wasn’t for the better.
Anisa was waiting at the gates. She had really grown up. As I admired her True Religion jeans, matching top and Zanotti pumps, I knew she was doing well. Her hair was cut short in a bob. Her light skin was radiant, and she had the smile of a woman who had seen no struggles. She looked truly happy, as if she was able to let go of what had happened to her. My big sister was beautiful. She was a grown ass woman now, and I hoped to leave the past behind and be just like her.
I was eighteen, not yet a woman, but definitely not a little girl. I was on my own, and the world was at my feet. All I had to do was conquer it.
“Miamor!” she yelled as we ran toward each other with open arms.
“Hey, bitch!” I replied as we embraced. We hugged and cried in excitement.
“I’m so glad you’re out! I missed you, Mia!” Anisa got teary eyed and put her hands on my shoulders so that she could look me in the eye. I already knew what she was about to say. It was something that had been in the air for a long time.
“I’m so sorry, Miamor. I love you. You’re my sister. I’m so happy that you did what you did. You saved my life. I’m just so sorry that you had to go through all of this behind my bullshit,” Anisa said. “Anything you need, I got you. First thing we got to do is get you out of this bullshit ass jail gear.”
I nodded, and we hugged once more before hopping into the car, leaving skid marks behind us as we sped off. She was whipping a nice little Chrysler 300 with leather seats and tinted windows. It wasn’t a Benz, but the shit was fly and more expensive than the average whip.
We rode into Brooklyn, and the first place we went was to the salon. My hair was long as hell because I kept it braided while I was locked up. When my shit was freshly permed and wrapped, it was down my back, all natural, no weave. My skin was flawless, and my figure was on point. I made sure to work out daily, keeping myself lean and feminine in the process with curves all in the right places.
After shopping and getting me a completely new wardrobe, we headed to the apartment that Anisa shared with her man, Murder. I was tripping at how freely she spent money. She was cashing out on me like it grew on trees, even giving me five stacks to keep in my pocket until I got on my feet. Her carefree attitude regarding money had me wondering what she did, because I knew her ass wasn’t working.
“I can’t wait for you to meet Murder. He’s really good to me… that’s my baby!” Anisa bragged as she smiled and batted her eyelashes.
I looked at her in high regard. At first glance, no one would have ever been able to tell what she’d been through. She was the shit, and I admired her for being so strong. I would have thought she would have never been able to trust a nigga. I sure as hell never would. A man who had watched us grow for years had betrayed us without a thought. If
“What kind of name is Murder?” I asked.
Anisa laughed and replied, “It fits him… trust. That’s the perfect name for that nigga.”
I shrugged as we parked in her building. “You live here?” I asked as we got out of the car. I looked up at the tall sky rise building.
Anisa answered, “Only the high life, babe. I’ll put you up on game later. Right now, let’s get you settled.”
Walking into Anisa’s crib, weed smoke invaded my nostrils, lifting me into a contact high almost immediately.
“Babe, come out here!” Anisa yelled.
Murder walked into the room with a blunt hanging from his lips, his aura commanding my attention and respect instantly. Anisa had definitely done well. The nigga was fly. His chocolate complexion and lean figure was attractive. He had a ball player’s height, but was a bit on the skinny side. It looked like Anisa weighed more than he did. His face was average, maybe even a little below average, but when I inventoried a man, I considered more than his looks. The jewels that were hanging around his neck indicated his status, and the fact that he had my sister plushed out in a luxury condo was all the evidence I needed to know that he was getting money. How? I didn’t know, but he was definitely papered up. He walked over to Anisa and kissed her cheek with casual nonchalance. He grabbed a couple Heinekens out of the refrigerator and tossed one to me, then handed one to Anisa.
“You must be Miamor. I’ve heard a lot about you,” he said, his strong New Yitty accent complementing his words.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I replied. “Thanks for letting me stay here.”
“Not a problem. You’re family. Anisa put me up on everything that happened, and I respect it. You can set yourself up in the extra room.” Murder sat down on the couch across from me and passed me the blunt.
Although I had never smoked weed, I accepted it. I had a lot of adjusting to do and a lot to think about as far as my life was concerned, but I didn’t want to stress it. I embraced the temporary relief and put the blunt to my lips. I inhaled deeply. Big mistake! My virgin lungs rejected the weed instantly, and I coughed uncontrollably as I put my hand over my mouth trying to hold the cough in. My shit was on fire, but I was mostly embarrassed, because both Anisa and Murder were cracking up, having a big laugh at my expense.
“You never smoked before?” Anisa asked as the burning finally eased in my chest.
I cut my eyes at her and shook my head no. Her ass knew damn well I hadn’t done shit before-fuck, smoke, drive, even flirt with the opposite sex. Hell, I just had gotten out of lockup! I was a virgin to everything… green to the game. Everything that the average ‘hood chick had experienced by the age of fourteen, I had never been able to do.
“We about to break you in then,” Murder stated with a small grin.
Anisa and I sat up all night, catching up on each other’s lives, filling Murder in on our childhood and the few good times we had experienced. He didn’t interrupt, but instead passed the weed back and forth while letting us do our thing. He just sat back and observed like a gangster would. The weed had me so relaxed and I knew that I had found my new favorite pastime.
By the time daylight crept through the curtains, we were all fucked up. The time had flown by, our reunion making up for the time we were separated. Smoking and drinking all night had me done, but it was the first time that I had felt comfortable in a long time. I was home, and it felt good… real good.
The ringing of the phone the next morning was like tiny bombs going off inside my head, and when it didn’t stop, I figured that Anisa and Murder were just as hungover as I was. Forcing myself to get out of bed, I got up and made my way to the living room. “Hello?” I answered.
Before the caller could respond, Murder appeared behind me and snatched the phone from my hand. He hung it up quickly without even seeing who was calling. “Don’t answer the phone, and don’t use this phone. I handle business, and business only on this line,” he said. His tone was stern, and I wanted to ask him who the fuck he thought he was talking to, but I held my tongue. He was letting me stay at his house and had welcomed me with open arms, so I didn’t want to create conflict over something petty. I frowned, but before I could say a word, he went into his pocket and pulled out a wad of money. He peeled off five hundred dollars and held them out for me. “Take this and get a cell phone today. Nobody uses this phone, a’ight?” he said as he softened up his tone. I guess he realized that he had been kind of harsh.
“Yeah, okay,” I said reluctantly.
I decided to not even bring the phone thing up the next day. Anisa seemed happy, and I wasn’t trying to be the
