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Kun whispered stories to me after I beat the shit out of him. Me and him, we don’t treat each other right, but that’s only after we fucked or shaking, I hold him like he some fine ass bitch and the things between us were going to be okay. I beat him like how all niggas should be beat; with my fist, I send blood curling down his nose and one time, he used a belt to strangle me till I blacked out and when I came to, he was hunched over me, crying. He only a year younger than me and we got the same story going on; quit school when I was sixteen, Kun was fifteen and we were always around each other, shooting shit about all the pussy we get every night, how fucking a girl till she cried meant hells yeah, we were big shits. Saw my dad beat the fuck out of Ma twice, Lucia getting whooped by Ma after she told Ma to leave that shit behind and to clear my head, me and Kun started selling smoke round Heath Street or near BU. Took the train into Boston every weekend and made friends with all the crazy asses there. Used to go to Lowell too to hit up the Cambodians and it was always me and Kun, me and Kun.
Last year, we got really drunk and after I called Kun a pussy, he curled his fingers around my hair and grabbed out a chunk of it. If I’m a pussy, give it to me. Kun used to talk all the time back then, real big, cussing and spitting like a real hard ass and I remember, even today, how I slammed his face against the floor and told him to fuck off.
Through the spit in his mouth, the blood streaming down his nose, Kun yelled at me, the last time I ever heard him yell like that, Who da fuck cares bout us anyway?
And it was the truth and then I did and like that, our two stories collided and became one.
When Ma came home that morning, after I finished showering and Kun took back his clothes from underneath the sofa, Lucia was helping Ollie get ready for school. There was no talking because if Ollie started crying, she wouldn’t stop and the bruise under Lucia’ eye was one ugly motherfucker in the morning light. And Ma walked into that silence, she just took one look at Lucia and asked if she went down to the corner yet to pay the bills.
Waited for Ollie to leave for school, I watched from the window, Ollie’s red shoes like a flower on her feet and Lucia holding her hand as they crossed the street. Ma slept a cat nap on the floor of the living room, woke up swearing and opened up a bottle of beer. Before she was out the door again, smelling like perfume, she turned to me and said, don’t say nothing. Her face was long, drawn tired and pulled tight, but she still pulled on black heels and piled all her hair on top of her head. Ma taught Lucia all her ways; they both hunt down men and come back alone.
The apartment was just blank, empty walls and I don’t got any pen to write with. So everything was empty, filled with nothing, not even shit. Refrigerator don’t work, the oven door was stuck and the sink’s clogged up. Ollie used to draw pictures for our place, but Ma got drunk and tore them down and since then, Ollie don’t draw no more. Lucia used to draw stick figures in nail polish all over the floor but our feet stomping through the place chipped them off. Can’t stand being there alone with nothing staring at me, nothing to stare at, so I called up Kun and he came over so fast, it was as if he never left.