MySpace Drama

I am 40-years old and have enough drama in my real life. Therefore, I don't need it in my cyber life, too. Who contacts someone via MySpace because of comments on their "alleged" man's page? Grow the fuck up! If you have a problem in your relationship, you need to take it up with your man. Communication is the key, bitch! Try it.

Headlines - Chapter Twelve

Three months passed quickly. All along Xavier changed inside, as well as on the outside. While in the hospital, he regained his pale coloring and his natural hair grew longer. When he looked in the mirror he saw what everyone else saw: a white person. He knew he could pass and pass he would.
While Xavier went through his different stages Mrs. Brunswick stuck by his side. She didn’t argue with him when he changed from the public school and enrolled in a private one. All she wanted was for him to be happy. If being white made him happy then she’d pretend right along with him. She didn’t protest when he suggested they use the money from Mr. Brunswick’s life insurance policy to buy a condo on the beach. They had a new home, new identities, and a new skin color.

Xavier found out that passing wasn’t bad at all. When he went to find a part-time job, he got hired right away. It was an office job at that. He wondered if he’d checked the box that said “African American” if he’d been hired or even considered for an interview. He doubted it.
Life was looking up. Xavier would find himself thinking about the old Xavier and he’d laugh bitterly. He despised that part of his life and tried desperately to forget it completely. He managed to do just that when something happened that threatened to ruin his new, white little world. Woodrow returned from drug rehabilitation; a new Woodrow, a straight, drug-free Woodrow, totally different and totally black.

At first Woodrow was silent about the changes he witnessed in both his mother and brother. It wasn’t long though until he voiced his opinion.
“I get back and see y’all living like royalty,” he commented. It had been two weeks since his return and they were eating dinner. “Putting on airs like royalty too.” Mrs. Brunswick dropped her eyes, but Xavier didn’t.
“So what?” he snapped. “We deserve some happiness after what we’ve been through. Just keep your mouth shut.”
“Or what?” Woodrow challenged. “Try me like a sucka now Xavier and I’ll bend ya ass in half. The old Woodrow is gone. This Woodrow will tear up the city with your ass, boy!” He stressed the word boy on purpose because he knew it would hit hard.
Xavier glared at his brother with cold eyes.
“Fuck you.” He pushed back from the table and took his plate to the sink.
“Man, I know you going through an identity crisis and shit, but why you dragging Mama through it too? I can’t believe you though, Xavier. You of all people. You, who used to preach to Dad about this same shit.”
“Like I said, you live your life your way, and I’ll live mine my way. Just stay out of my business Woodrow and don’t go mouthing off to people.”
“Hey, it’s your life, man. I just think you going about it wrong. Yeah, you might be gaining a lot of material things, but you’re losing ya self-identity, ya pride, and ya culture. You can’t be happy. It ain’t possible.”

* * *
“Can you believe what happened at Gibbs High?” Xavier heard someone ask and his head snapped up. Gibbs was his old school. He tuned in on the conversation. “Some group, BTO, or something, was responsible for having six drug dealers arrested on campus.”
“Oh, I heard about that. That school was being run by drug dealers. You know it gets like that when those kind of people get together.”
“Lord forbid if we get any more of them here,” someone else said.
Xavier’s face momentarily tightened in anger. They were talking around him like he was one of them. If only they knew how those words hurt. He couldn’t hide from who he was no matter how hard he tried. He might appear to be white on the outside to his newfound friends, but on the inside he was still black. The black part of him was offended by what he heard.
Woodrow’s voice came back to haunt him. “…you’re losing ya self-identity, ya pride, and ya culture. You can’t be happy.”
Shut up, he told himself. He slammed his locker shut and went to join his friends. He tried to forget, but throughout the day conversations in the hallway reminded him. In every class he was usually the only black or there were one or two others. Of course he didn’t let on that he was one of them. He saw how the teachers treated the black students differently. He also noticed how the rich, snobbish kids hung together. He was a part of that crowd and if he could help it, he would stay a part of it.

He was invited to many parties and he accepted some invitations, but refused others. The parties were usually thrown in someone’s him when their parents were out of town. There were always drugs and alcohol around which he never touched. Even if he’d been tempted, he remembered what happened to Woodrow.
One night the teens he hung with sent him to get more cups and ice. A white girl named Meagan tagged along with him. As they pulled up to the convenience store in his Suzuki Samurai jeep he glanced to his left. He immediately recognized Tim’s car. Tim walked out of the store just as Xavier jumped down from the jeep. They eyed each other. Tim looked from him to Meagan.
“You Uncle Tom ass nigga,” he insulted. Xavier brushed past him, saying nothing.
“What was his problem?” Meagan asked. “Black people are so rude.”
Xavier silenced her with a cold glare and went into the store.
When he got home later that night he wasn’t in the best of moods. Meagan had kept throwing herself at him. The rest of his friends tried to pressure him into using cocaine. He’d left the party angry. It was still early so he turned on the television.
He heard the door knob turn and looked up as Woodrow entered. He was going to put his attention back on the TV, but what Woodrow carried caught his eye. His heart leapt to his throat and he jumped up.
“Woodrow, what the hell is this?” He snatched the familiar black jacket and threw it on the floor. “How could you do that? How? You know what them niggas did to me and you run and join the group the first chance you get.”
“Look Xavier, whatever you got again BTO is between you and them. Don’t question me and don’t try to tell me what to do,” Woodrow yelled and picked up his jacket. “Don’t be throwing my shit around either,” he mumbled.
“Don’t do it Woodrow. It’ll tear me to pieces if you do.”
“It’s already too late. I’m the new Look Out Man. I’m sorry Xavier, but this is what I want to do. Since you got kicked out of BTO, a lot has happened for the group. Positive things. BTO is not just a bunch of thugs. They are helping the black community, and I’m proud to belong. BTO is my people, your people, Xavier.”
“BTO ain’t shit! Woodrow, they tried to kill me. Don’t that mean anything to you? You are my brother, my blood. If you turn to BTO you may as well forget we have the same mother and father.”
“You’re talking bullshit, Xavier. It’s my choice to belong in BTO. How can you try to take away something that makes me happy? Man, I’ve been a nothing for too fucking long and with BTO I’m something,” he said emotionally. “If you can’t understand that, I feel sorry for you.” He stalked from the room with his jacket thrown across his shoulder. The big, bold letters B-T-O glared at Xavier, mocking him. Never in his life had he felt such rage. He’d show BTO that they weren’t indispensable. They couldn’t have his brother and he’d make sure of that.

Once the house was silent and Xavier knew that Woodrow had left to meet the group, he made up his mind. He was going to stop BTO forever. He opened his dresser drawer and felt for the gun. He headed out into the night. Inside he fumed. He didn’t plan to leave one member of BTO standing, not even Peter. His hand gripped the gun.
The Beretta felt heavy in his pocket. He kept thinking about what he was getting ready to do. His conscious tried to argue with him, convince him of the seriousness of the situation. He refused to listen.
When he arrived at his destination he wiped the sweat off his forehead. He had no idea that Woodrow was hidden in the shadows, guarding the meeting spot.
Woodrow saw a dark figure. All he knew was that a stranger was intruding. He couldn’t see who it was in the darkness. He raised his gun, ready to spring into action.
“Hey you! Show yourself!” Woodrow yelled a warning. Xavier snapped, aimed the gun and fired a few rounds, then turned to run.
Woodrow returned fire. One shot caught Xavier in the leg, swinging him around. The next bullet hit him in the chest. Just as he fell to the ground the person was upon him. He looked up into the face of his own brother. His eyes widened in shock, then clouded over.
“Oh God! No!” Woodrow wailed, realizing what had happened. “I shot my brother. I shot Xavier!”
The commotion and gunshots brought the rest of BTO running.
“No!” Peter ran and threw himself to the ground next to Xavier. “Don’t die, X. Don’t die, Man!” Blood gushed from Xavier’s chest wound. “We’ll get you to a hospital. Just hang in there.”
Woodrow was hysterical. Someone called an ambulance and the sirens could be heard far off in the distance. Xavier reached out and Woodrow grasped his hand.
“Woodrow…I…I…love…you. Tell mama-” His words faded away as he slipped into a permanent state of unconsciousness.
Seeing that his brother was dead and knowing that he was responsible caused Woodrow’s mind to snap. All he could think about was getting his hands on some drugs. Peter had to take over. He called Mrs. Brunswick to tell her the unfortunate news.
When the phone rang it startled Mrs. Brunswick from her sleep. It was the first time she’d been able to sleep without the pills the doctor prescribed. She reached for the receiver.
“Hello?”
“Mrs. Brunswick, it’s Peter. Something- bad has happened.”
“What? Is it LaMount? Woodrow? What is it?” She was wide awake now.
“It’s Xavier.” Peter paused for a long moment. “I don’t know how to say this.” She could detect the sadness in his voice. “He’s…gone,” he choked out. “Woodrow shot him by accident”
“No!”
“I’m sorry.”
“No! Not my baby! Not LaMount!” Mrs. Brunswick cried. Peter heard the phone drop. He could hear her sobbing brokenly. It tore at his heart. His own eyes clouded over. The tears fell freely down his cheeks.
The next morning someone opened the newspaper.

Brother kills brother in accidental shooting, overdoses on crack
ST. PETERSBURG, FL – Xavier LaMount Brunswick, 17, of St. Petersburg was pronounced dead late Wednesday night. He suffered a fatal gunshot wound to the chest.
Pinellas County Sheriff’s Investigator, David Westgate, stated the gun was discharged by Xavier’s older brother, Woodrow Jerome Brunswick, 19, a recovering drug addict.
Shortly after the shooting, Woodrow’s body was discovered in a known crack house. He died from an apparent drug overdose.
“It was an unfortunate accident,” commented Tim Conner, leader of BTO, a social-fraternal like group. Both teens were members of the group. “They will be greatly missed.”
Xavier and Woodrow Brunswick leaves behind a mother who was committed to Horizon Hospital’s psychiatric ward earlier this morning.
“It’s a shame,” said Peter Hall, a friend of both brothers. “It’s just a shame that it had to end like this- another headline.”

Headlines - Chapter Eleven

When he got home, the first thing Xavier did was take a long shower. Home never looked or felt so good. After getting dressed, he ate and settled down to watch Days of Our Lives. It was heaven not to have twenty different people arguing and fighting over the channels. He was anxious for school to end so he could confront his group. They had switched out on him, especially Tim. He’d get to the bottom of it as soon as he got some sleep. He stretched out on the couch and immediately began snoring.


Tim found out that Peter skipped his first two classes and went to the jailhouse. He was certain Peter had run off at the mouth to Xavier. He couldn’t wait until the bell sounded so he could find the rat.
When Peter saw Tim’s tight face, he immediately cringed.
“Fatboy, did you go to the jail this morning?” Tim snarled. “Don’t lie to me.”
“I-I-”
“I said don’t lie!” Tim grabbed him by the front of his shirt and shoved him into the wall. “Xavier wasn’t supposed to know nothing when he got out. I specifically told all of y’all that. Why you want to run off at the mouth?”
“I just thought-”
“Shut up. And don’t think!” Tim snapped. “Look, it’s for everybody, not just me, that I’m doing this. What kind of leader is Xavier? You witnessed it with your own eyes what he did to Slap and then Mike. Come correct Pete. Is that the type of leader Brothers Taking Over need?”
“Well, when you put it like that-”
“Look, Pete, me and you are down. I wouldn’t go behind your back to none of the others. Why you went out on me like that?” Peter just dropped his head in shame. “You’ve got to be with me on this brother. Can I count on you to stand behind me?” There was a long silence. Peter was thinking about how tight he and Xavier had been through the years. Then he thought of how Xavier had changed, how he was always insulting and belittling him.
“Yeah,” he finally said, “You can count on me.”
“Okay. Cool. Now, I need you to get Xavier to meet us at the warehouse. You think you can do that? It’s time to appoint a new leader for BTO. Remember, don’t let anything slip about what’s going down.”


They waited in the warehouse for arrive to arrive. Tim had informed the five he’d chose about what was going down. They’d sided with him and so had Donnell’s group.
When Xavier walked in, he received glares from everyone but Peter. Peter refused to raise his head.
“What’s up?” Xavier asked. No one answered him. “I said what’s up. Y’all deaf or something?” No one said a word. He looked at Peter. “Peter. You called me and said it was important. Now, no one has anything to say? I’m here. What the hell is going on?”
“We want you to step down as the leader of Brothers Takin’ Over,” Tim finally spoke.
“How in the hell?”
“Everybody voted,” one of the others said. “The majority rules. You are no longer the Head Man in Charge,” he paused and added. “Tim is.”
Xavier was completely thrown off balance. “What? Man, this is unreal. You backstab me while I’m down? I thought y’all were my brothers!” He turned scornful eyes on them all. “Peter? You too, huh?”
“I can’t do nothing about it, X. Majority rules. I tried,” he said pitifully.
“Donnell, what about you? You agree with this?”
“BTO is my life now,” The Mean Kid answered. “You had your chance and you blew it. It’s as simple as that.” Xavier was stunned to hear the Mean Kid say that.
“You have too much hatred inside, man,” Tim added. “Brothers Takin’ Over don’t operate like that. We don’t need that. I think you need to join the Uhuru Movement. They’d probably welcome you there, but BTO don’t need you.”
“I can’t believe this shit.”
“Believe it bro.”
“I should have known you’d betray me,” Xavier snarled at Tim. “You always wanted to be a leader. How could you stoop to this level? I should have watched my back.” Without warning, he punched Tim in the jaw. Tim staggered backwards.
“Get that nigga!” Tim commanded and all of the guys in the room closed in on Xavier. “Fuck nigga, that’s the last time you’ll ever hit me and get away with it.” Tim kicked Xavier in the face. “And this one is for Mike.” He kicked him again.
No matter how good a fighter he was, Xavier was no match for twelve. Peter cowered in a corner and watched with a sad expression on his face. He felt sorry for his friend, but he didn’t want any part of it. He knew if he attempted to help, the pack would turn on him too.
When they finished beating him, Xavier moaned and held his ribs. His face was bloody and some of his teeth lay in a pool of blood nearby. His eyes caught Peter’s and he mouthed the words “help me,” the he slipped into unconsciousness.


When Xavier’s eyes opened again he saw nothing but white. He felt like shit and wondered why his whole body ached.
He groaned and someone was immediately at his side. Through eyes of pain he saw his mother. He tried to smile and assure her that he was fine, but he couldn’t.
“Don’t try to talk, baby,” Mrs. Brunswick whispered to him. “Just take it easy. You’re okay.”
“Wha…..what’s….wrong…wit—” he tried to ask.
“Shh! You’re alive and that’s all that matters,” she stated. “LaMount, try to rest. Just take it easy, please.” He closed his eyes and drifted away from the pain.
The next time he woke up he was able to ask questions. He learned that he had a broken nose, six cracked ribs, and his right arm was broken. He couldn’t forget what his brothers did to him. As he lay in the hospital bed, he became bitter and even more filled with hatred. How could the group that he created, turn on him? He’d given them his all. He’d made BTO. He’d given everything to a bunch of worthless niggas who’d almost killed him. Could his father have been right all along?
“You see a black man down, his friends and neighbors all turn their backs. That’s what keeps him down,” His father once mentioned at the dinner table. “Now, if a white man is down his people, neighbors and all are going to pull together and help him get back on his feet. Now, am I correct or not?”
Xavier thought about it all, long and hard. Maybe he’d been trying too hard to be black and fit in. Maybe it would just be easier to do as his father. Being black got him thrown out of BTO. He wondered what being white would help him to accomplish.

Headlines - Chapter Ten

Xavier and his mother had a long talk later. They agreed that the best thing to do was place Woodrow into a long-termed drug rehabilitation program. They couldn’t risk having him run off again. Finally, he’d be able to get the help he needed.
That night Xavier’s sleep was interrupted by horrible nightmares. He saw his father dying right before his eyes. He kept trying to reach out to him but was blocked by an invisible wall. In his mind’s eye he saw that the wall was actually a gigantic, beer bottle.
In another dream he could visualize Woodrow in the crack house. When he tried to pull the rats off his brother, the rodents viciously turned on him. They bit and scratched, drawing blood. When he finally got them off Woodrow, he saw that they’d chewed his brother’s face off. He couldn’t stop the scream that tore from his throat. He sat up in bed, sweat breaking out over his entire body. He shook beneath the sheet that covered him. He lay there until his racing heart slowed to a normal pace. He dared not close his eyes again. He rolled over and stared at the clock. It was 4:15 AM.

The morning sun shone though the window onto Mrs. Brunswick’s tear-stained face. She’d been awake well before Xavier cried out. She’d wanted to go to him and offer some sort of comfort, but something held her back.
Xavier LaMount Brunswick had never been an affectionate child. Even as a toddler, he wiggled and squirmed from her embrace when she tried to hold him close. When he cried out in his sleep, she wasn’t sure if she should go see what was wrong. Lately, she sensed a change in him, a hardening. He was even colder than before. Something was going on inside him and he would have to work it out on his own. She couldn’t help him and doubted he’d let her if she could.
When she went downstairs at 7:00 AM, Xavier was already up. She could hear the shower running. She knew he probably hadn’t slept since his dreams awakened him. She decided to cook him a cheerful breakfast, something different for a change.

It surprised Xavier to see his mother up so early, even more to find breakfast on the table. In the weeks since his father’s death, she’d forgotten they had a kitchen. To actually get a hot meal that morning made him happy for some reason. Knowing that she’d cooked just for him brought a smile to his face.
“Good morning Mama,” he greeted. He stopped short when he saw blue berry waffled. “Hey, what’s the occasion? Did I forget my birthday or something?”
“No special reason. I just thought you were a bit tired of grits after seventeen years,” she said.
“Well,” he took a seat, “to let you in on a little secret, I actually hate grits,” he told her. Mrs. Brunswick threw her head back and laughed joyfully. Xavier smiled. All those years he ate grits because that’s what she cooked and no one else complained.
“And since we’re being honest this morning,” he continued. “I’m not too particular about scrambled eggs either.”
The two of them ate breakfast and talked like they never had before when Mr. Brunswick and Woodrow were present. Xavier found himself thinking that he and his mother could now spend quality time together. His father was gone. Woodrow would be away for months, and Mrs. Brunswick resigned from her cleaning job. They could finally get to know each other and possibly bond.
* * *
All of the usual gang was waiting in front of Xavier’s locker- all except Mike. Xavier frowned as the events of the previous night flashed through his head. He’d placed ice packs on his face and lips, but there was still some noticeable swelling. He’d managed to evade his mom’s questions during breakfast.
They socialized for a bit but began to disperse when the bell rang.
“See y’all at lunch,” Xavier called over his shoulder. He turned the corner and bumped into Mike.
“Xavier, we need to talk,” Mike breathed.
“We ain’t got nothing to say after last night,” Xavier snarled.
“Listen man,” Mike spoke tightly. “What you did was sour. You had no right to kick me out of BTO. I belong.”
“Mike, look.” From the corner of his eye he could see that Donnell, Tim and Peter had come back. “I know it’s hard for you to understand, but—”
“No! I don’t want hear that shit! I belong in BTO.”
“That’s out,” The Mean kid growled.
“We don’t need you,” Peter threw in.
“No. Y’all don’t understand,” Mike pleaded. “The group is all I’ve got. I have big plans for BTO. Big plans. You messed everything up, Xavier.” He turned narrowed eyes on Xavier. “You always did have it in for me anyway. All y’all had it in for me all along. Just fronted like you didn’t. Right?” He glared at the rest of them. They glared back. The warning bell sounded for classes, but they ignored it.
“I’m sick of this fuck shit,” Xavier snapped. “We don’t have to stand here and listen.” He tried to walk past, but Mike pulled out a gun. Xavier backed up a few steps.
“What is this?”
“I know what you did to me, man. You tried to kill me that day when you rammed me into that fir hydrant. I ain’t forgot that you wanted me dead.” Mike had a wild look in his eyes. His hand tightened on the gun.
“Mike, it’s not like that at all. Put down the gun. You just making trouble for yourself,” Tim advised.
“No!” Mike exploded. “He tried to kill me. Tell me he didn’t.” He aimed the gun at Xavier. “It ain’t right that he get to call all the shots. Why he the leader anyway? He treats all y’all like shit. Y’all treat him like a fucking king. Well, even kings get dethroned.” He pointed the gun at Xavier again. “I really hate you, Xavier.” His finger was on the trigger, but before he could pull it someone hit him from behind. He fell forward onto Xavier, dropping the gun. Xavier punched him in the face. They both scrambled to get the gun at the same time, but Mike reached it first. It was in his hand as they continued to struggle. Suddenly, the hallway was filled with a loud explosion as the gun discharged. Mike’s eyes widened in shock.
“You shot me,” he gasped. “I can’t believe-” He fell to the floor, bleeding from a wound to his stomach.
“Aw man!” Peter groaned.
“Xavier, why you shot him!” Tim asked accusingly. He dropped to his knees and grasped Mike’s hand. “Call an ambulance!” he yelled to the crowd that had gathered. “Call an ambulance now!”
“Don’t let me die, man!” Mike stared at him with pleading eyes. “Not like this. Don’t let me die. Please,” he begged.
“You won’t die, Mike. Don’t worry,” Tim promised. He turned eyes filled with fury on Xavier.
“It was an accident,” Xavier yelled. “The gun went off. I didn’t mean to shoot him.”
It wasn’t long before the hallway cleared. Two policeman arrived with the ambulance attendants.
“What happened here?” An officer asked. All of them except Peter, turned cold eyes on Xavier.
“He shot him,” Tim lied. “He shot him for no reason.” No one contradicted his statement.
“No, it didn’t happen like that. I swear to God. It didn’t happen like that,” Xavier said.
“Tell it to your lawyer,” the cop snarled. He shoved Xavier against the lockers and slapped handcuffs on him. “You have a right to remain silent.”


Xavier sat in the cold cell in total despair. He’d made his one phone call to his mother and now he was on his own. Bail was set at $50,000. At ten percent, he could go home but his mother didn’t have five thousand dollars. It would be a while before she could get him out. He sat in a dank, musky cell with five other men. They smelled and he stayed as far away from them as he could. He basically ignored them and they didn’t bother him.
He dreaded using the small, rusted toilet that sat in the corner of the cell. He was tired and hungry and longed to go home. He stared at the cot in the opposite corner. Two men hogged it and he didn’t feel like fighting. He found a spot on the floor that wasn’t wet and laid down. He tried to sleep but the slamming of steel doors kept him jumping. Snatches of different conversations drifted in and out of his earshot. He found himself thinking about the guys. He wondered what Peter was doing. Probably eating. He chuckled at the thought. Out of the group, he liked Peter the most. Peter was all right, easy-going and soft-hearted. Peter helped him through a great deal. It was Peter who he talked to when Woodrow got deeply involved in drugs. He felt closer to Peter than he did to Woodrow. He confided in him his dream to one day becomes a cartoonist and Peter didn’t laugh or tell the others.
Yes, Peter was cool. His only fault was that he was weak. He could easily be controlled by anyone with a stronger mind. His weakness would probably be his downfall.
Donnell was a difficult person to read. Xavier knew he’d witnessed his parents get shot to death by an intruder and it scarred him. Donnell hadn’t always been quiet. On the contrary, as a kid, he talked the rest of them to death. Then when he was ten years old, his parents were murdered right before his eyes. He’d never been the same.
Tim. Thinking about Tim gave him a sour taste in his mouth. Tim came into their group last. The clique had already been formed and they were wary of letting anyone else into it. Tim had been very persistent. Since he basically followed them around, they finally accepted him. Xavier never completely trusted Tim because Tim had a sly, guided aura about him. He’d always been suspicious of him, especially now when he couldn’t watch his every move.
Xavier’s mind drifted to Mike. Mike had always been a person who thought he was superior to everyone else. All of the guys had it in for Mike at one point in time.
As the coldness of the hard, concrete floor crept into his bones, he thought over the events of the day. He despised Mike, but he hadn’t purposefully shot him. The gun had discharged and it wasn’t right for him to be behind bars. It angered him and saddened him at the same time. He’d never been in any serious trouble in his life and now he was going down with an attempted murder charge. It was screwed. He just wanted it all to be over. He wanted to go home.
His back ached and his left leg was falling asleep. He got up to move around and get the blood circulating. The other five men stared at him. He approached the bars. Damn! He wanted out. He gripped the bars and stared at nothing.
“Fifteen minutes and lights out!” a guard called. Xavier turned to stare at his cellmates. They seemed to be smirking. Never had he felt such fear.

Three days passed and Xavier felt like he’d die if he had to stay locked up another day. He couldn’t take it. He called his mom and begged her to put up the bond money by using the rest of his college fund. She reluctantly agreed, but it would take another day because the banks were closed.
He was pissed. None of the guys had come to visit him. When he called their homes, their parents had been evasive and wouldn’t put them on the phone. When he got out he was going off on all of them. They were supposed to be his friends and they’d let him down. He expected it from Tim and Donnell, but not Peter.
As he walked back to his cell, he got angrier by the minute. When the guard opened the door, he headed straight for the cot. He threw everybody’s stuff on the floor and plopped down.
“Don’t like it?” He glared at the men who were playing cares. “Then do something about it!” They sized up the situation, figured it wasn’t worth adding more time to their sentences, and went back to playing Spades. Xavier finally slept for more than five minutes.
When morning came, he jumped up when he heard his name called. He was a free man. When he was told that it was only a visitor, his spirits sank.
“Damn. Whey is my mama getting here?”
“How should I know?” the guard said sarcastically. “You got a visitor. You going or not?” he barked.
“Yeah.”
Xavier headed to the room with the glass partitions. He saw Peter’s face pressed up to the window and hurried to grab the phone so he could speak.
“What the fuck took you so long to come see me?”
“I- I wanted to come, but they wouldn’t let me,” Peter said weakly.
“What do you mean? How in the hell can anyone keep you from coming to visit me? Tell me something else Peter because I don’t buy that!”
“Tim and the others are acting kind of strange. I know something is up, but I don’t know what.”
“Well, I’ll damn sure find out. I’ll be out of this bitch today and you can bet ya ass I’m getting some fucking answers.”
“I’m real sorry about what went down Xavier. Mike is doing fine. He’ll be out of the hospital in a couple of days. I hear he told them the truth about the shooting, so what Tim said don’t count. It was sour. Sure was. I know something is going to happen. I just had to tell you. No matter what X, you and me we’ll always be down. No matter what. Remember that.”

3-Day Book Challenge Update

Unfortunately, I didn't obtain my goal. I didn't even get to write anymore than the 7,237 words. Satan has been very busy in my life. Family concerns have me unable to focus on anything, much less writing.

Maybe I'll attempt this challenge again in the future.

3-Day Book Challenge Update

I got practically nothing accomplished today. I damn FaceBook to hell! Everytime I get on the Intenet to research something pertaining to the book I'm writing, I get lured over to FB. I'm at 7,237 words. At this rate, there is no way in hell I'll make it to 50,000 words in three days. But, I press forward.

Maybe I should have set the goal for three weeks. Well, it ain't over until the fat lady sings!

3-Day Book Challenge (My Progress)

It is now a little after 1 o'clock. So far I've written 5,270 words. I am going to take a break because my wrists are aching and my eyes need a rest. I'm heading out to get a cold Pepsi. Trust me, I'll be back at it before the day is done. I don't feel I've pushed myself hard enough. I've been playing around a bit on FaceBook. So, next sesssion: focus!