Ruthless and Rotten

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Table of Contents

SAY
U
PROMISE
. . . AGAIN!

 

by

Fatima and Brother Rasul drove both of the girls to the airport so they could catch the red-eye flight. They said their farewells at the gate and sadly boarded the Texas-bound aircraft.

“Don't worry, London. You'll be safe when we get to Dallas. Storm and his boy Deacon have got that town on lock! We gonna be good!”

Kenya was trying endlessly to ease her sister's troubled mind, while she herself was a hot, nervous wreck. When they landed and got their luggage, Kenya tried calling Storm's cell phone, but unfortunately, once again it went straight to voice mail. Needless to say, she was starting to get beyond worried.

“Damn, why isn't his ass answering? He'd better not be fucking around with one of those island Bitches!” Kenya slyly mumbled under her breath.

“Is everything all right?” London asked her sister as she looked directly in Kenya's face. She could tell that it was a problem. Even Ray Charles could.

“Yeah, I was just trying to call Storm. He must not be back in town yet, but it ain't a big deal. I'm straight!”

Kenya didn't know how she was going to break the news to him about London. After all, she had been lying. Well, sort of. He always thought her uncle was the only family that she had, but bottom line it was time for her to face the music. Storm didn't have a choice in the matter. He would have to accept London and she, in return, would have to accept Storm and his crooked lifestyle.

Kenya tried not to worry as the pair took a taxi to her and Storm's condo. When they drove up, Kenya noticed all the lights on inside the house. She then made a mental note to curse Storm out for leaving all the lights on. He was, after all, the main one complaining about the bills.

“Well, this is it! I can't wait for you to see how I decorated it!” Kenya excitedly leaped out the cab, stretching her arms.

“So this is it, huh?” London looked around the quiet street that her sister had been calling home.

The driver sat the bags on the curb, waited for his tip, and pulled off into the darkness of the night. Kenya and London picked them up slowly and made their way up to the door.

“Wait 'til you see it, London. It is nice as hell. It's everything I've ever dreamed about.” Kenya stuck her key in the door, strangely discovering it was unlocked.
He must have really been in a rush
. Confused as to why Storm had carelessly left without securing their home, Kenya pushed the door wide opened and stepped inside the entranceway.
What the fuck!
She couldn't believe her eyes and what she and her sister were faced with. “Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Oh
nooooo!
” Kenya almost collapsed to the floor as London held her chest in utter disbelief. The karma that Kenya had put out in the universe had just come back to bite her dead in the ass!

Kenya and London stood in somewhat of a daze. It was like looking at something out of a movie. London was totally confused, while her sister was completely shaken up. Both girls simultaneously turned, glimpsing over their shoulders to see if they could try to stop the cabdriver, who just dropped the two of them off. Unfortunately for the pair, he had already pulled down the block. Undoubtedly on his way back to the airport in search of another fare for the night, the girls were all alone and on their own. The only thing they could make out was his brake lights as he slowed down, bending the corner of the quiet gated community that Kenya and Storm called home.

“Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Oh shit!” a stunned Kenya repeated in a loud, panic-filled voice, standing in the threshold. “I'll be damned! What in the hell happened in this place? Storm! Storm! Oh, my God. Storm—where you at?”

“Wow—what happened here?” London quizzed, dumbfounded and astonished.

Kenya yelled out her fiancé's name once more, as her twin sister London's jaw fell open, almost dropping to the ground. “I can't believe this bullshit!” Her eyes were stretched open wide and soon filled with tears as she quickly glanced around her once-perfect, gorgeously designed living room. “Storm! Storm!” she shrieked, still standing frozen in the doorway with her knees weakening by the second and her lips trembling from fear. “This is a nightmare, London. I'm confused!”

“Kenya, what went on in here? How did this occur?” London wondered, interrupting her sister's apparent emotional breakdown. “This is awful. I mean—wow!”

The pair couldn't believe their own eyes, let alone stomach the nauseating, eye-stinging stench that caused them to almost throw up. London, not knowing what else to expect, reached over, grabbing her sister's hand tightly as they hesitantly made their way completely into the high-priced condo. Leaving the custom-carved wooden door unlocked and open just in case they needed to make a quick escape, they each prayed for the best. Considering what the pair had just been through back home in Detroit and the overall condition of the room, neither Kenya nor London knew what to expect with each passing step that they took.

It was burning hot inside the condo. Kenya raised her hand to the thermostat, turning off the heat that was strangely on full blast, like Miami. The temperature had caused the walls to sweat and each girl to immediately become drenched in perspiration. As the seconds past, it was becoming painstakingly clear something was drastically wrong. First, all the lights in the house being left turned on, then the heating system on the nut, and of course, her living room destroyed. What else was next? What else could possibly go wrong? Kenya was beyond terrified and needed her man by her side, not her scary cat and judgmental sister.

“Storm! Baby, are you here?” she pleaded repeatedly, hoping for a response. “Are you at home? Please answer me, baby—please!”

London darted her eyes around her twin's supposedly new home. She looked at the huge painting hanging over the fireplace that was crooked and peeling away from the frame. Next, she focused her sights onto the obviously damaged wine-colored leather furniture, as well as the completely destroyed, crushed coffee table. Despite the terrible mildew odor that filled the room and the mess that surrounded them, London could tell that Kenya once had the condo organized and magazine worthy, but now was not the time to complement her on her style or flare for fashion.

The newly laid, plush wall-to-wall white carpet was now soiled with debris. It was soaked with filthy water turning some areas dark brown. The soles of the girls' shoes were wet, submerging deep into the carpet, making squishing sounds with each step. Sections of the ceiling were caved in, exposing the floor support beams of the upstairs rooms, along with a constant stream of water still causing chaos.

“Listen sis, seriously, from the look of things it seems as if your so-so brain-challenged, brilliant boyfriend must have left the water running somewhere in the house. He must be the smartest man alive. Kenya girl, you are so lucky to have a man like him.” London snickered at her twin, shaking her head. “We need to at least get the water turned off!”

“Damn London, college did teach ya li'l behind one thing!” Kenya put her hand on her hip, definitely not in the mood. “To be a real smart-ass!” She wiped the dripping sweat off her forehead, rolled her eyes, and waved her hand in London's face. “And FYI, he's not my boyfriend! Remember the ring! Remember this—here ring, heffa! My man put a ring on it for real!”

The tension that was originally felt when they walked into the condo was broken briefly by the girls clowning on one another.

“Okay, ‘Miss I Got The Ring', why don't you go upstairs and see where all this water is coming from. I'll try to open some of these windows and let some fresh air in here. I can hardly breathe in this palace of yours.”

“You mean you want me to go up those stairs all by myself?” Kenya pouted with her lips stuck out. “You must be insane or something! I don't know what's up them damn stairs!”

London laughed at her sister. “You so big and bad all the time, thinking you can beat the world! Why don't you go by ya dang-gone self? Who stopping you?”

“Stop playing around so much and come on.” Kenya yanked her sister by the shoulder. Arm in arm, they both slowly headed toward the staircase.

The closer they crept to the top of the condo stairs, they could clearly hear the sounds of water running. The floor on the upper level was much more damaged than the downstairs, causing the twins to lean on each other for support so they wouldn't slip or fall. The horrible smell that'd taken over the living room was getting worse. The water that drenched the carpet was more infested with debris than the bottom of the condo.

“It must've been the fish tank that overflowed,” Kenya finally reasoned with herself, trying to calm her nerves. She started feeling somewhat relieved at the thought all this bullshit she'd been met with on her return home was nothing more than an unfortunate accident. “That's the only water that could be flowing from that direction. Maybe the pump broke or something. That has to be some of Storm's dead fish or something like that.” She waved her hand across her nose.

“Yeah, you're probably right, Kenya. That's got to be it. I mean, that's the only reasonable explanation for this ratchet smell.” Using the collar of her shirt as a mask, London rolled her eyes. As they got to the edge of the slightly cracked den door, pushing it wide open, the odor worsened. The smothering heat that was trapped inside rushed out and hit them smack dead in the face. “Oh dang gee! It smells like not some, but all your fish are already dead.” London twisted her face, turning up her lip. “God it smells bad!
Urggg
, I wanna throw up! Yuk!”

“All right girl—damn! Stop with all the dramatics and carrying on! I know it stank bad as hell, but listen, I'm gonna run in my bedroom and get the telephone number to the condo management so they can send someone out here ASAP. You go in and at least see if any of them are still alive.” Kenya tightly placed her hand over her nose and mouth, hoping to stop the overpowering stench from filling her throat. “I'll be right back. Shit! Storm is gonna be pissed the hell off. He put a lot of dough into that freaking aquarium.” She left her sister standing in the hallway as she disappeared into her bedroom.

 

 

This is so dang-gone gross
, London thought, walking into the unfamiliar room, searching the wall for the light switch. She felt the side of her tan Payless loafers being filled with water she could only assume was contaminated. Carefully, she bent down to roll up her pants legs that were dragging along the floor, making each step much grimier than the last. “Kenya, is you gonna replace my shoes! Cheap or not—I just bought these!” She angrily barked out, hoping her sister heard her declaration. The fish tank was located over on the far left side of the spacious room. It was making a terrible piercing, grinding sound. She wanted to place her hands on her ears to block some of the annoying noise, but would have to stop using her collar as a mask. At this point the smell was worse than the sound, so she chose to endure the lesser of two evils. London slowly headed over to investigate the huge fish tank and hopefully solve the source of the problem.

Kenya made it to the side of her and Storm's king-sized bed. Disgusted at what kind of cleanup she was facing, she sat down on the edge of the mattress. Opening the nightstand drawer, she grabbed the business-card flyer with all the condo management's contact numbers on it. As she quickly scanned down the list, she overheard the sound of more water flowing from one of the adjoining bathrooms.

The two baths that were connected from the master bedroom were designed differently to fit both her and Storm's own individual taste. Kenya's was old-fashioned, with a sink and tub that was porcelain with antique-inspired fixtures. It reminded her of her grandmother's house, a place she'd always love. On the other hand, Storm's private bathroom had a shower that had a beveled three-color glass door and a sunken, custom-designed walk-in tub that could comfortably fit at least two people without a problem.

I know Storm's crazy self ain't leave the water on in his precious bathroom! He better not have!
Kenya huffed, thinking to herself as she leaped to her feet, bolting into the bathroom.
If he did, then that's his ass! I swear on everything that's in his pockets! He got my entire house on the nut smelling and looking like God-knows-what!

When Kenya ran inside, she immediately lost her balance from all the water spewed across the marble floor. Not able to catch herself from falling, she slid, scraping her arm and shoulder on the way down. “Ain't this a bitch,” she mumbled angrily, soaked to her skin. “Now my clothes are ruined and shit! He's gonna straight-up replace my outfit! Trust and believe! Who does this—who? First, he leaves the heat blasting on hell, lets the fish tank run over, now this! Where they do that at?”

Sure enough, she quickly realized the water was indeed turned on full speed in the tub and had overflowed. The room smelled just like raw, dirty rotten sewage. Kenya, nauseated, was almost in tears again as she tried getting up and slipped back down in all the muck. Instead of attempting to walk over to shut the water off, she wisely decided to crawl. At this point, it would be much easier than trying to stand up. So, on her hands and knees, drenched, slimy, and covered in God-knows-what, Kenya cursed the love of her life as she tried to maintain her composure through the turmoil.

“I'm gonna flat-out kill that fool Storm when I see him. How could he be so careless? This is ridiculous!”

 

 

London cautiously neared the corner of the room. Not able to move, she started to hyperventilate at the sight of the huge aquarium and what was seemingly inside. Her entire body was shaking uncontrollably and she became light-headed. She opened her mouth to yell out her sister's name, but no sound was coming out. Terrified, London grasped for air, holding her chest while backing up slowly.

“Kenyaaaaa! . . . Kenyaaaaa!”
she stuttered loudly, finally getting the words together. “Come here quick! Hurry up! Please hurry!” London's heart was pounding and seemed as if it was going to jump out her body. With her adrenaline racing, the once naive-to-life college student bolted out the room. Fighting to make sense of what she'd just seen, she stumbled into the debris-covered hallway. Her system broke all the way down. She couldn't hold back any longer. Disgusted beyond belief, London threw up all over herself and the already filth-soiled carpet. “Kenya! Kenya!” Gagging, she continued to call out while wiping her mouth with the sleeve of her shirt.

London's repeated shouts of fear were interrupted by a constant assault of Kenya's high-pitched screams. Desperate to reunite with her twin, she followed the sound of her sister's voice down the hall, in the bedroom, and lastly into the bathroom. “Kenya! Kenya! Please—you have to hurry and come with me,” London shouted loudly. “You need to see this! Matter of fact—we need to get out of here!”

Focused on revealing what she'd seen, London rushed inside the bathroom. Painfully, she had the same misfortune as Kenya, sliding across the floor past the sink and toilet, landing flat on her back. London, still frightened, half out her mind, was now next to a sobbing, also scared and in shock, Kenya, who couldn't do anything but point her trembling finger. Placing both hands down on the cold, dirty, and wet marble floor, London sat up and reached for her twin. “What is it Kenya? What are you trying to say? What is it?”

No words came out her otherwise tough-natured sister's mouth as she continued to point. Not knowing what to expect in this surprising house of horrors, London took a deep breath, preparing herself for more of the unknown. Leaning over, she bravely peeked over into the bathtub, taking a long, hard stare. Astonished once again, London felt as if she and Kenya were costarring in a bad, low-budget scary movie, considering all the bad luck that was following them around.