“We are the shadows. The shadows. The shadows. The shadows.” We are the buriedsouls that live through you. Our pain is your pain.”
I screamed. There was something crawling on me. I felt around in the darkness andfelt a long musky tail. I screamed again as I flung the rat off me. Oh my god. I jolted upinto a standing position, flinging the wool blanket off me and using it as a whip to fendoff the rat. It scurried away, realizing that it was no match for me. I took a few deepbreaths, trying to process everything. I squinted like a submarine periscope and scannedthe room. It was drafty, with icy cold winds. The fire had dwindled down to just a heap ofblack ash on the floor. The plastic bags were gone and so was Ali.
Oh my goodness. Panic struck me. Where could he have gone?
He wouldn’t have left me.
“Ali!” I cried.
But he was nowhere in sight or earshot. I was scared. I had woken up from onenightmare and had landed into another. Shit!
Living just to survive was just too damn difficult. I didn’t want this. I just wanted tobe warm and clean and safe, and maybe part of a family that gave a damn. I was breakingdown and I wasn’t sure how long I was going to last.
“Ali!” I screamed out again in sheer desperation.
I listened intently. Someone was coming. I looked behind me and caught a glimpseof a man in the doorway. The person was way too big to be Ali. Hurriedly, I ran into thebathroom and shut the door. I could hear the pitter patter of footsteps in the hall. I wasn’tcold anymore. My body was overheated from fright and my clothes were wet from sweat.I tried to control my breathing, and I pressed down hard on my nose and mouth.
Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.
The person was knocking hard on the door like the police before a shakedown. Iswallowed hard, and I could feel my heart running faster than a jackrabbit. I could onlyimagine who was behind that door, a psycho with an electric chain saw, who would ripmy face off and wear it as his own. That would be okay, a little voice in my head said.There would be one less nigger in the world to worry about. I took a couple of steps back,lost my footing, and squealed as my behind sunk deeply into a seat less toilet bowl. Igrimaced as I felt the water seep into my pants and cried like a baby wearing a shitstained diaper.
“Open up. I know you’re in there. Open up right now.” The voice commanded.
I didn’t answer. Instead, I shook my head from side to side, trying to convincemyself that this wasn’t real. That none of this is real.
“Open up now. Or I’m going to break this fucking door down,” the voice continued.I couldn’t take it anymore; I broke down swinging my head from side to side. A part ofme prayed that it would be over quick. Please dear God, don’t let him hack me up intolittle pieces and feed me to his dog. Oh God, please don’t let that happen. What are youafraid of? You don’t have anything to live for. Nobody wants you and the last person inthe world that you have, left you for dead. Just let him kill you and be done with it. Itwould be one less nigger in the world to worry about.
I began to hyperventilate. Oh goodness yes, thank you God. Please let me die thisway, without having to drown, be strangled or burned to death. I closed my eyes andcontinued to pray. I began to feel dizzy.
“Hey! Pitchy, stop fucking around,” Ali said from behind the door.
I paused. I couldn’t believe it. It was Ali, he was here and he hadn’t left me. Istruggled to slow down my breath, and I slowly got off the toilet and peeled the dooropen. I saw a chubby boy in an oversized Nick’s jacket with saggy, baggy jeans. Then Isaw Ali. He was looking at me in the most peculiar way. His face changed when herealized that I was scared.
“Hey, I just left to get some more stuff. I couldn’t wake you up, so I left withoutyou.”
I couldn’t speak. I stood there motionless and wide-eyed like I was catatonic.
“I was trying to get back before you woke up,” he said.
I looked over at the boy who was named Pitchy. He waved an oversize hand in frontof his nose.
“Ah man. Did you shit your pants?” he said.
I looked over at Ali, my eyes rolled in the back of my head and I hit the floor, hard.
~ ~ ~
Chapter Nine
The boys had gotten a lot of stuff. In just a few short hours, they had transformed ashit hole of an apartment into a ghetto suite. We were no longer freezing our asses off,thanks to a kerosene heater that was smack dab in the middle of the room. They hadgotten a chewed up and smelly recliner from the trash dump, along with a crippled centertable. They placed torn blankets over the windows, and there were thousands of candlesof assorted colors and sizes lit. There were four boys in all; they were gathered aroundthe heater, like it was a campfire, sitting in lawn chairs.
I could smell the greasy aroma of fast food. I eyed one of the boys as he choppedaway on a fried chicken leg. My eyes opened wide, and my mouth began to water as Iwatched him lick the greasy residue off his fingers. Ali handed me a
