Daddy's House (2 page)

Boom! I felt the vibration of someone's body hit the
door. I sat up in attention. My heart raced so fast it
skipped beats. I couldn't catch my breath. Okay move
dumb ass, I whispered inside. But for some reason my
body still didn't respond. Sweat poured down the center of
my back.

"Make sure you cut that hoe's neck straight across the
center," I heard one of the intruders say to another.

"Bitch where you at?" one yelled, while they continued
to ram into my door. I heard my ceramic plant vases
hit the walls. Glass shattered. I wondered how many were
out there. Those guys obviously meant business the way
they rummaged through my apartment.

Bam! They kicked hard enough for the top hinge to
break off my bedroom door.

Oh my God
! I leaped from
the bed getting my feet tangled up in the sheets. I fell flat on my face.

"We gon’ rape your ass?" one of them whispered through the slight opening at the top of the door.

It was almost like he could see me. I kicked the air trying to break free. As I squirmed, I scrambled to grab my shoes from near the dresser, but my arms were too short to reach them.

"Oh bitch, you mine now," the one with the deeper voice yelled, as he peeled the first hinge from the door.

I wanted to cry but I had no time to get into my emotions. It was do or die. As I freed my left foot, I slid across the floor like a soldier in combat. My closet seemed so far away. My aim was to retrieve my purse with my life savings and my identification, then head straight for the window. When I reached the closet I stood to my feet. I felt around in the dark like a blind woman without her cane.

Bam! I watched as the second hinge separated.
Oh shit…shit…shit
! I began to throw my clothes on the floor when I couldn't find the hook with my purses.

"Run bitch run, 'cause we coming to get yo' ass!" The man squeezed his arm through the slight opening of the door, and shined the red laser from what appeared to be his gun.

Please don't let them kill me.

Finally, I felt the metal beads on the handle of my fake Prada bag. I yanked the long strap, threw it across my shoulder, and darted toward the window. Within that one second, shots rang out. I ducked praying that the bullets would go around me and under me, but not through me. I pulled the thick curtain aside to escape. I don't know why I looked back, but I did. I could see in the shadow two big bodies, one headed straight in my direction. I wrestled with the window as the bullets kept coming. One hit the window and glass went everywhere.
What the hell
!

Just when I raised the window, even though it was already broken, the one headed for me grabbed my top. I tussled to get loose banging my head on the frame.

"Bitch you dead!" His voice sent chills down my spine. He put the gun to my head.

I'm dead
! I thought. I almost surrendered until he pulled the trigger. Click, click, click. It was empty. He had already unloaded all his rounds. I guess his ass was in shock 'cause he let me go, holding it in his hands like it was his baby. I was in disbelief. Everything at that point seemed to have happened in slow motion.
Move dummy
, I said to myself.

The dangling of my leg from the window ceil snapped me back to reality. As planned, I squeezed my petite body through the window and out into the cold. Being outside in the middle of the night in a silk Victoria Secret pajama set was not a part of the plan, but in this game, anything goes. The moment my bare feet touched the fire escape, my nipples jumped to attention. The brisk air had me jilted, but I instantly slipped into survival mode.

My heart raced. I wanted to cry out for help, but who would save me? If the police came, they’d just put me in another place until it was time for the trial, and I’d just be a sitting target all over again.

I picked up the pace, fearing for my life. Luckily, the temperature had gotten up to about fifty degrees, and wasn’t too unbearable for me to be out without a coat. By the time I swung from the last step of the fire escape to the street level, I’d already figured out that I had nowhere to go. I hesitated, swaying back and forth, contemplating which way to run.

Damn, I wish I had a pair of socks or something in this purse.

Suddenly, the gun shots from above let me know
they’d finally reloaded their gun. I turned to see if I was
being watched. In the distance, I saw a big black gruesome-
looking dude with his head stuck out of my window. By the way his head turned, I could tell he was
searching hard to find me. I could see another large shadow
hovering behind him.

I slid closely alongside the wall, trying to stay far
away from the street lights. I glided smoothly down the
street like an Olympic ice skater, never looking back. Just
when I thought I had made it scot-free, Big Foot spotted
me.

“
Oh, we gon’ get yo muthufuckin’ ass, cunt!” he
roared. His voice resonated so loudly, more lights began
to come on all over the building. “Run bitch, run!”

By the time he finished his last words, I’d already taken his threatening advice. I darted like a runaway slave, from what was supposed to have been a safe haven. I’d finally made it to the end of my street. Between sprinting and looking around, trying to watch my back, I tripped twice, scraping my knees. The further away I ran, the streets became darker and colder, but I continued to sprint with the fastest speed possible.

The first few blocks were the hardest, because everything around me appeared to be a threat. Even the mailboxes had eyes. I felt like they were watching me too. I wondered who would help me on a night like this. I had no one. I thought about going to a shelter, but the further I traveled, I realized the neighborhood had become more suburban. I was surrounded by nothing but houses. I’d walked nearly four miles and my feet felt beat up by the cold concrete.

Out of breath, I finally slowed down, after realizing the coast was clear. I grabbed my forearms tightly, noticing how the neighborhood had changed drastically. The upscale homes reminded me of the type of lifestyle I wanted to live some day.

Between my wishful thinking, and the eagerness to be saved, I zoned out. The sudden screeching sound of a zooming car brought me back to the present. The bright lights glared in my face, and sent me back into escape mode. I panicked and jetted through someone’s backyard. I didn’t care if the car was coming for me or not. I just wasn’t willing to take that chance.

My eyes bulged when I spotted a oversized three foot doghouse sitting in the back of someone’s yard. For most, that was a sign that a big dog would be waiting to tare their ass up. But I had nothing to fear, I had a way with animals. Big V kept vicious pit bulls around, so I learned how to make them submit real easily. Besides, my only choice was Big Velma’s hit men or Foo-Fee, Foo-Fee. I decided on the dog.

I unzipped my purse, searching for anything to protect me from a possible upcoming attack. Moving closer, I tiptoed alongside the doghouse like a tightrope walker. Still fumbling around in my bag, I dropped closer to the ground, and decided to use the scarf off my head as bait. I waved the scarf back and forth in front of the doghouse. Nothing happened.

“
Here boy,” I whispered, knowing he’d come running.

Again, nothing happened. A dog would’ve definitely smelled my scent by now, and headed for my flesh, so I eased up a bit. A tear fell, starting a chain reaction. I didn’t know whether my tears were from not getting bit, or from the reality of my next move.

The moment I got on all fours and crawled into the doghouse, I knew I’d reached my lowest point. Tears flooded my vision when I entered, and pushed my way to the back. The offensive odor hit me like a bowling ball going fifty mph. I gagged a few times, before realizing what was happening to me. In a strange way, getting bit was what I wanted. I needed to be taken from my misery. Just maybe, I’d end up dead.

I tied my scarf back around my head like it was bedtime.

The ventilation was poor, damn near unbearable. But at that point, I had no choice but to weather the storm. I crouched in the corner and talked to myself. That kept me sane. Cold and shivering, I finally knew what it felt like to be homeless.

Chapter Two

The next morning, I was posted up in the doghouse, like I was waiting for a bowl to be placed in front of me. Between scratching all over like a junkie, and trying to blow the bad smell from my nose, I’d completely flipped out. Teary-eyed and hungry, I still didn’t wanna move. The thought of being that afraid had me freaked out. The doghouse seemed to be the most unlikely place where anyone would look for me. I just prayed the beast who owned the spot wouldn’t be coming home anytime soon.

I looked down at my body, and was instantly reminded that I still had on a pajama set with no shoes, and a flowery stitched scarf. At the thought of my attire, I snatched the scarf off my head, and combed my long jet black hair from its wrap with my fingers. Luckily my texture was good, and a few strokes of my hand made me look decent enough to walk around the neighborhood. I crawled to the edge of the doghouse, and peeped out into the sunlight. The house in front of me didn’t look as huge the night before when I decided to trespass, but now it looked humongous. I wondered if the dog was inside, or from the looks of things, at the dog spa. The manicured lawn and top of the line outdoor furniture told me that somebody there had
money
.

At the thought of money, I stuck my head back inside, grabbed my purse, and dumped what little laid inside. All I had to my name was inside my wallet. I counted slowly, hoping I was wrong. “Twenty, forty, sixty, eighty, eighty-one, eighty-two.” I knew that wasn’t enough for an escape. Obviously whoever came for me last night, knew where I was. So I needed real money to make sure I wasn’t found again.

I peeped out once again, and rose to my feet. Without a watch, I could only guess the time. I figured from the look of the sun, 9:00 a.m. was approaching. Boldly, I walked around to the side of the house, past the iron railings, clutching my forearms tightly. The air was brisk, but decent for early November. I knew no one would believe my situation, but it was worth a try.

I rang the doorbell, and lowered my head only to notice my bare feet again. I shook my head, thinking,
I
would definitely call the cops if I lived here. What should
I say? Should I tell them I think my mother has a hit out
on me? Who in the hell would believe me?
I tried to focus on something different, ‘cause I knew a breakdown was coming. I turned to admire the beautiful scenery of the leaves changing colors on the trees, but that was just a fairy tale; reality stared me in the face.

“
May I help you?” an elderly white woman asked, opening the door just slightly. She looked at me strangely, from my face down to the bottom of my feet. Slowly, her eyes moved like a scanner. “Dear, I hope you’re not looking for work,” the woman uttered. “Coming here dressed

in nightclothes is utterly rude!”

I said nothing, but raised my head a bit.

“
Well, say something. What do you want?”

Our eyes locked and so did my brain. “Uhhhhhh…,” I stuttered.

“
Yes…what do you want?” she repeated.

A tear fell and my face reddened. “My boyfriend put me out in the street,” I said sincerely. “Me and my baby have nowhere to go.” I started crying openly. I was good at making people feel sorry for me.

“
Oh my goodness,” the woman said, with her hand placed directly over her chest. Her jaw dropped low. I guess the baby thing did it. She just wasn’t smart enough to ask where the baby was. “I saw something like this on the
Montell Williams Show
once. What do you want me to do, dear?” she asked, opening the door just a little bit more.

“
Can I come in just for a while?” I asked, with more crocodile tears flowing down my face. “He may be looking for me.”

The woman hesitated. She looked over her shoulder, and answered with regret, “Oh honey, I can’t do that. My husband would kill me. You would be putting us in danger,” she said, like she was dividing every syllable. “I really want to help, believe me. I had a black girl working for me once.”

I nodded my head, as if to say sure, then just smiled at her racist-ass.

“
Oh, I didn’t mean anything by that,” she said, as her face turned a deeper red. “Wait at the end of the driveway, down there at the bottom of the hill,” she pointed. “I’ll give you a few dollars.”

The lady started to close the door, when I stuck my foot in the opening of the door, and prayed she wouldn’t slam it.

“
What in God’s name are you doing?” she shouted, pushing the door almost completely shut. Her eyes grew to the size of watermelons, and it became obvious she thought she was being robbed.