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I heard the nigga loud and clear in my head.

“I don’t want to deal with this shit for the rest of my life Tea.” My headache and tension lifted up a little as my sister continued to massage my scalp. “I don’t want none of this shit, not the street shit, not all this money if it means I remain this crazy ass nigga that see shit that’s not even there.” I looked up at her with my chin resting in her midsection holding my head leveled.

“I’m sick of hearing this nigga, this devil in my fuckin head. Seeing this nigga and answering to him when I know he ain’t there. Why the fuck we had to have problems. Why can’t we be normal? You know all the fucked-up shit I done did behind hearing and seeing this fuckin fake voice?” My voice cracked as Mattea tears dripped onto my face.

“I know Matthew, I know. I hate that you feel ashamed like you gotta hide it. How many times you helped me when I froze up or was stuck in that apartment of mine alone for days not talking? You always was the first to see me at my worse and help me. You never judged me. You know, growing up. I constantly saw you in your room fucking up your action figures. Like you were trying to make them hurt. Then you’d look up like you had someone in the room with you and ask them if that was how they wanted you to handle the action figure.” She wiped her face and placed it back in my scalp to continue the massage as I listened to her.

“I felt fucked up when we got older because I didn’t want to rat you out then you hate me more. We already beefed a lot over dumb shit. So I stop spying on you. By the time I became Reaper and start killing people for paid hits, you were already putting on this front like you were fine. So I left it all alone when I shouldn’t have. I never wanted to get help for my disorder just like you don’t. Now that I got kids. I stay talking to Ms. Scott. Taking my meds and whenever I feel myself slipping hard I go get even more help. I hate it but I do it because it helps me feel a little normal. I’ve learned to live with it and accept it. I acknowledge my issues for what they are. I know that I can control it better and it makes me feel good so I know it would do the same for you.”

More of Mattea tears mixed in with mine, we both remained quiet for our own reason. I stayed quiet trying to force that voice away with other thoughts of mine that I felt would calm me. I was stressed out and wondering how the hell Honor was holding up. Every time my mind seemed to stay stuck on Honor, it forced that voice to taunt and talk shit to me like I was some weak ass nigga just letting things fly.

“I don’t want to even be in the streets no more. It’s turning this demon inside of me more crazier. I can’t get control over this nigga if I’m still heavy in the streets. The evil things that come to my mind Tea, even when it comes to y’all is disturbing.” Pussy! I was so agitated with hearing that voice that I shook my head hard against Mattea. I shook my shit so hard that I hoped that it could shake that voice away for forever.

My mind went to Praylah and I calmed a little bit. My heart was fucking aching just thinking about her. Wait… Heart aching? Did I really love her? I kept replaying what was said and thinking about the missed calls from her. I wondered if she was calling me for help. I hope she didn’t leave with that nigga willingly having another weak moment. I wanted so much for Praylah. Shit I needed to want that kind of peace for myself.

Mattea was talking again, trying to say reassuring words but all I could think about was Praylah. I even kept asking myself, did I love her and if I did, when did this love start. I think I knew the answer to that shit, I just didn’t want to believe it, but my mind made me go back to when I saw the real her. The side of her that she tried to hide from everyone else.

The side that had me questioning myself and even after this time, I had promised her that if she took her medicine that I would start taking mine as well.

I got to Praylah house in thirty minutes, knocking at her door like I was twelve. I waited but I didn’t have the patience to just stand here and wait any longer. Shaking my head for what I was getting ready to do, I prepared to Knock her door down. I stopped when I heard her locks clicking, indicating that she was aware that someone was at the door. Slowly opening the door with shades covering her eyes and a mask covering her eyes. She kept the door cracked with just her face sticking out.

“Umm, Matthew?” She nervously moved her head, angling it to look around me like she was shook.

“You can’t be here.” Her tone was hasty like she wanted me to leave. I could feel my jaw clenching tight. I calmed myself but still I felt myself ready to explode. Cracking my neck, I started out speaking slowly.

“You ain’t had no accident Ma, step to the side let me in so I can look at you.” I tried to talk as comforting as possible, lowkey, I didn’t really want to see what she was hiding. If it was severe, it would probably send me in a rage that I didn’t possibly need.

I could feel her vibes of pain, that shit radiated through me making my stomach hurt. Kill! Kill! Kill! that voice in my head was raging making it hard for me to concentrate. I watched her shoulders go down in defeat. She opened her door and stepped all the way to the side.

Allowing me in her space, I looked around slowly. From what I could see she had been shacking in her living room. The balled-up tissues thrown about on her couch and floor had indicated that she was heartbroken in stuck in depression. Her black out curtains had the place dim and a stench crossed my nose causing me to turn and look over at her.

“When the last time you washed your ass, Praylah.” I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, I didn’t know how to really even ask her the question nicely. My whole life I had been blunt, but something about her made me want to word things in a way that didn’t come through as mean. She was as fragile as glass and I didn’t want to crack and possibly shatter her when she was already damaged and hurt.

Praylah had on dingy sweatpants and a worn-out-looking spaghetti strap white shirt. The stains on her shirt made me believe that she had been blowing her nose on her shirt, just not giving a fuck because she thought she was all alone. Damn, I was seeing her in one of her elements that probably required her to take whatever medication that could help her boost the way she was feeling up. Maybe I could make it better on my own, I didn’t really know what the fuck I should be doing at this very moment.

“I don’t know when I showered, I don’t care.” She shrugged and flopped down on the couch. “I don’t even want company Matthew, I just want to be alone right now. My body hurts and my mind is weak right now.” She sighed through the mask.

“That’s too bad, I’m here to help you Pray. Take that mask and those glasses off so I can help you.”

“I don’t want help; I want to feel how I feel right now. I don’t even know why you seem to be interested in me. I’m a dirty ass bitch, I’m always depressed and whenever I feel like I ain’t worth shit I treat myself like shit and I don’t bathe. I don’t have the energy to even clean my own ass. I let people walk all over me cause I don’t have the strength to even challenge a person good enough, that’s why you in my house.” She chuckled dryly. “A total fuckin stranger, in my house. Well my boss in my house, seeing the real me. You should just leave before i disgust you. I’m not those picture perfect bitches that your use to. I get yeast infections if I eat the wrong foods, my panties ain’t always clean looking. My own man won’t fucking touch me and haven’t touched me in months. Maybe close to a year. I ain’t shit, Matthew. You too perfect, for a woman like me.” She gasped then swallowed down hard. Rocking back and forth holding herself like she didn’t want to lose whatever grip of sanity that she had left she looked away from me.

I didn’t know what to do, I felt like searching for whatever love I had inside of me and pouring it all into her. The confidence I had and whatever other good things that I had locked away in the depth of my soul, I wanted to give it all to Praylah. She shouldn’t even feel the way that she was feeling.

The nigga that she was with knew that Praylah had a problem. Pussy nigga played on that shit, instead of elevating and helping her through her storm.

I walked away from her and went searching for her bathroom. First step was finding whatever medicine it was that she took and trying to give it to her. This shit had me feeling like this was some type of dejavu, my mom use to have to tend to my father just like this. Giving him his meds when he was on edge. I found her bathroom and decided to start her up a shower.

Going through her bathroom drawers I found her medicine. Walking out of her bathroom I walked back to the living room and stood still. Praylah glasses and mask was off and I got an instant headache as memories came speeding through my brain. Her eyes were swollen and underneath her left eye was blue, red and purple. Her lips were puffy as hell like someone suctioned the fuck out of them.

I felt nauseous because it felt like my past was right in front of my face. (That bitch fucked your enemy! Don’t go soft and act like we were in the wrong!)

“We were in the wrong!” I mumbled lowly. (No we weren’t! Help Praylah and stop feeling guilty! Fuck Lakendra! This isn’t about her!)

“I dogged her though! Dogged her bad, she had every right to fucking cheat!” I started pacing, I needed to feel justified right now. Anger was soaring through me, I needed a cigarette, something to take the edge off. Praylah looked up at me with bewilderment as if she was confused on what I was talking about.

Putting her medication down on the table, I turned to walk away and out of her house. Seeing her fucked up was fucking me and my mental up. She fucked an enemy so I beat her ass!

“I gotta get some help.” I placed my hand on the doorknob and reached for the door.