A Yardie is a Jamaican.
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Kareem

Mistakes from the past are never forgotten.

I might look like I'm good all the time, but I'm hurting on the inside.

No matter how many times my moms and pops say that it's not my fault that their youngest son is in the streets, I know they blame me.

Shit might be good for a few weeks, and then all of a sudden, they are distant from me.

When I first got deeply involved in the streets, I was 13, Kaseem was 6, and my pops was locked away in prison on a 10 year bid. Kane Thompson, my father, was charged with first degree manslaughter with a firearm. They let him off easy because of good behavior and also because he claimed it was self defense, but I doubt it.

The little bit of money he had left over from pushing weight and being a show off was gone.

The house? Gone.

The cars? Gone.

Him being away from his family made me never wanna even think about killing anybody because I saw the consequences first hand. Him being away from his family also broke my momma the fuck down, mentally, emotionally, and financially, making me never want to allow anybody that I cared about to struggle like that.

Celine Thompson, my beautiful ass mother, was young. Her family had disowned her for getting pregnant so she had nobody to help her raise two growing boys.

My maw maw, Kris, had just lost my grandpops to a heart attack and she was struggling since one of her boys was in prison and the other one was an asshole.

That's where I come in.

Living in the hood ain't nothin to be happy about which is why I don't understand why people who live in the suburbs wanna be from there so bad. Niggas can admire the rare, good times, but fail to think about the bad majority.

Everyday we were at risk of getting our apartment broken into, getting shot up and the police not coming because they were scared them damn selves, or anything else imaginable.

I got tired of my momma working two jobs and managing school, breaking herself down to make sure we ate, so I did something about it.

Walking through the broken gate at the back of our apartment complex, I nodded my head at a few of the people that I knew as they spoke to me.

It was damn near twelve in the morning and I was just getting back home from the corner. I was walking as fast as I could because it was freezing cold and also because I wasn't trying to get robbed.

Just because I was tall at the age of 13 and people knew who I was, niggas still got buck on occasions.

My mom should have been getting off of work, and Kaseem's bad ass was in the apartment.

Yeah, he's 6, but all he needs is a snack and a tv and I ain't have to worry about nothin.

"Where you comin' from,"  I heard from behind me, as I was walking to my room, making my heart drop to my stomach.

I turned around slowly, still looking down at my busted up converse. If I looked up, she was gonna know I was gettin ready to lie. My mom could easily read me.

"Look at me, Kareem," she commanded in a voice that let me know she wasn't playin with my ass.

Slowly, I looked up, seeing that she wasn't in her work clothes, meaning that she got off early because she wasn't home when I left around six. She had on some sweats and a t-shirt with a thick ass leather belt in her hand.

"I-I was by Dre's house-"

I spit out the fastest lie that I could, forgetting that Dre wasn't even at home. The nigga was in Juvi.

She swung the belt, hitting me wherever it landed, which just so happened to be my shoulder.

"You think I'm dumb," she yelled with tears in her eyes.

It hurt me to see my momma cry, but I was doing what I felt that I had to do so we could survive.

"Momma we need the money," I replied in a low tone, taking the rubber band of bills out the pocket of my black hoodie and holding it out to her.

There was a gleam in her eye, but it went away as soon as it came when she began to shake her head no.

"You ain't about to be selling drugs, Kareem. I'll get the money."

"How momma?! Just let me help you," I pleaded.

I turned around and went into me and Seem's room. He was sleep with the thick quilt wrapped around his body, snoring like he had a full time job.

Kneeling down at the mattress, I went into the hole that was on the side of it and pulled out four more rolls of money before getting up from the floor and walking back to the hallway where moms stood, analyzing my every move.

"This is enough money to pay all them over due bills and get groceries for the next few months."

She sighed before leaning onto the dingy wall and sliding down it with her hands over her face. Within the next few seconds, I see the tears seeping through her fingers and hear her sniffling.

"Momma-"

"Go get ready for bed, baby. Please."

I was about to speak, but decided against it when I saw the look on her face.

Clenching my jaw, I turned around and went to get my night clothes and underwear so I could take a shower.

Luckily the water was on. I didn't care if it was cold as ice.

My moms let the bills pile up for two months while she continued to ask for extensions and put down what she could. I continued to hit the streets every night during those two months before she reluctantly accepted my help.

*
*
*

I became the breadwinner for us, and I nothing felt better than that- except for when Layla gave me my first child.

Selling drugs was able to get us out the hood, put my momma through college and pay off her loans, and a bunch of other stuff.

I meant to stop when we were stable, I really did.

But the fast life is addictive and I got accustomed to it by the time we were on our feet and Pops was out of prison.

Unfortunately, Kaseem decided that he was gonna follow in my footsteps despite my many conversations as I tried to persuade him not to. I will admit that I could've not put him on, but I'd rather my brother be with me instead of somebody else.

That don't mean I haven't tried to stop him from continuing, though. Damn near everything I meet with Seem for those reasons, I'm giving him a way out but he don't want it.

Kaseem likes the fast life, much more than I do, and I'm hoping he don't get caught up.

My pops taught me some shit through his mistakes. I learned to invest, so if something was to happen to me, my family would be good. Also, I learned to not be too flashy because that makes people wonder how you got so much money.

They fail to realize it because they like to baby his grown ass, but Kaseem and our pops were two in the same.

They were both extremely reckless and barely gave a damn about what they did or the consequences that followed until it was too late.

Even though I liked to fight a lot and I had a temper, I usually thought about shit, and I was more open and understanding than the two of them.

They don't listen to me though, cus I'm the reason shit is bad.

My phone started ringin in the cup holder of my truck, bringing me out of my thoughts.

Layla was calling, but I was sure that it was Kai before she went to gymnastics.

Since I was driving with my right, I used my left hand to get my phone, answer it, and put it up to my ear.

"Wus good, Pops," Kai greeted before I heard her laugh on the other end of the line, causing me to smile.

Kai and Victoria were two of the few people who could make me feel good just by hearing their voices.

"Wussup, baby?"

"Can you take me to the zoo tomorrow please," she asked in the sweet voice that she always used whenever she wanted something.

"You gonna buy me some back to school shoes," I questioned in the voice that she did.

I took Kai back to school shoppin the last time she was with me. The whole time I playfully complained about her making me go broke like I always did when I took her shopping.

"You buy me stuff. I don't buy you stuff," she spoke in a matter-of-fact tone, making me let out a small chuckle.

"That's right. I'll take you to the zoo tomorrow. And we can go get ice cream too."

"Great, thank you. I love you, dad."

"I love you too, baby girl."

*

"How ya day been, beautiful?"

Me and Victoria were outside of the shop. She was sitting in the driver seat of my truck with her legs hanging out and I was standing in between them with my arms wrapped around her.

Damn, I love this woman.

I glanced through the passenger window at the construction that was going on not too far away. For them to not have been working that long, they were making a lot of progress on her shop.

Victoria looked up from my gold chain that she was playing with and into my eyes, "It's been busy. But I got some news."

"Wussup," I questioned with my eyebrows furrowed, instantly noticing the change in the atmosphere.
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I didn't edit.

Leave feedback and y'all will get the rest before the weekend is over.