It's Hard Out Here

"This gon' be my last game right here, homie." That was always my least favorite part about late nights at LMU. Since everybody else in the student center actually went to school here, they actually went to school here, they actually had classes in the morning, unlike me. A teenager who just did anything to stay away from home. Mark was always the coolest out of everybody that occupied the student center. He always brought his own stick and he won all of the games he played, even with the pool tables being in such horrid conditions. Out of all the people who played ping pong and pool, Mark is the one who taught me how to play all of the student center sports until I got to the point where I could beat almost everyone there at least one time.
He was also the most understanding. Being from Long Beach, California, he understood struggle, he understood pain. I showed him my own war wounds that I received at home, he told me to be strong in my situation, and when he graduated, he would take me to the hood where he was from. I imagined all of the time what it would be for a white boy from Harrogate, Tennessee to survive in Long Beach. Whatever it was, it would have to be better than staying at that house. To me, living here was like searching for an oasis in hell, and my dad was like the devil, only worse. Only one semester left though, and I'm out of his grasp forever.
I watched Mark leave after he shook my hand and told me to stay strong. That was easy for him. He was naturally athletic, naturally strong, but not me. I wasn't as strong as him, but in a few months, I can change that.
Once Mark left, I played a few games with the other LMU students, but without Mark there, I didn't really see no purpose for being there. He was my angel, and where ever he was, Heaven followed.
I walked out into the cold with some old jeans, the hoodie and the jacket that Mark gave me to protect me from the harsh weather of the mountains. As I looked at the campus walking back to my house, I passed by the fairly new apartments and wondered what it would be like to live in places like this. Dishner, the place that is filled with soccer players and freshmen. I don't really know them but they always smiled at me. One thing they always offered me was joy.
Then there was Mitchell, filled with basketball players. Besides Mark, I had one other favorite basketball player. She was one of the nicest yet strong women I've ever met, so unlike my sister, who was something like a human prisoner in our home. I loved Cena's hugs.
Then there was Pope. Nobody but the second or third best pool player lived there, but I didn't really know anyone that lived there. The last two two dormitories that I passed were LP and Munson. LP was the home of Mark's secret love. I knew about her and I knew how he felt about her, even when no one else did, and I could easily remember why he had fallen so deeply in love with her.She was not only beautiful, but she was also real. She was a truly genuine person and she always had a hug for me every time she saw me.
Munson held a young Hispanic girl from San Diego, California who for some reason whenever I was around her made me feel as though tremors from the earth moved up from my feet to my legs to my stomach and settled in my heart. Every time I saw her, the lump in my throat doubled in size as my eyes surveyed her youthful curves. My ears never perked like they did when I heard her voice. A beautiful prodigy around my age, she was truly a beautiful woman, and I never wanted to be there for another like I wanted to be with her. Too bad I can never be with her. She would never choose to be with a loser like me.
I never wanted to cross the street to Dollar General. I never wanted to walk that long, dark road to my house that sat next to the small general store. I hated to gaze upon the evil house that was my own, but hell I was already here, just a few more months right?
I walked in the house, but I didn't expect a warm greeting that I would receive from LMU. Instead I saw the man covered in Aryan tattoos and toned from head to toe. That was Jordan Sr. and he would never like idea of his son who looked so much like him moving away with a black man, and he would damn sure hate the idea of his son being in love with a Mexican, but the way I saw it, he was beyond ignorance and he would never change. I couldn't let him destroy my plans to move away to California and steal Starr's heart from that Munson house. He stood in his bedroom doorway and stared at me as I went to the refrigerator to get one of the cold beers that stood collecting frost and popped the top. The brew was refreshing to my soul as it eased my mind and allowed me to relax in a situation where relaxation was an impossibility. I sat on the recliner in front of the TV and fell into the television show that could bring no laughter nor joy like my dreams.
My senior retired back into his bedroom and my sister/his sex slave found her way into his former position. I couldn't stand to look at her. It hurt me to know that no matter how much progress I made for myself, she would always be stuck in the same spot. She would always be product of lust and degradation and would never be able to step out of this hopeless situation. She would only be able to watch her younger brother leave her behind with a hint of jealousy burning him in his back with her intense blue eyes.
I was hoping that this night would be uneventful, but with the senior, no night would be uneventful. I guess he grew jealous that Shana's intense blue eyes' attention was drawn on me. He jumped off the bed and pounced behind her and pushed her to the ground in front of me. She was helpless as she knelt in front of me. I tried to act as though I didn't notice in an attempt to hide the guilt I felt, the pain I felt for her. I loved her but I knew that resistance would harm my plans. I would be able to help in mere months. Until then, I could only dismiss this as a sick lover's spat. But I knew it was something more when I heard the jealousy dripping off of his tongue. "So you want your brother now, huh!?"
The sound of anger that came was nothing like I've ever ever heard from him before, and I knew this night would not bode well for either one of us. She pleaded with my senior but he advanced with a sadistic smile on his face, and I knew he was expecting a show in which he expected me to fully participate in. "Well bitch, since you want the young calf so bad.......why don't you taste." She looked at him with pleading eyes as I tried to ignore the situation, hoping they would make up and leave me out of it. When she crawled to his feet and stood on her knees, he slapped her down viciously. Blood dripping down her lip, he ordered again, "Now do as I told you bitch and please your new man since you have no more use for the old bull, you will now be the house whore. Now go over there and suck his dick like a good whore. I want a show!"
She looked in his eyes and when she saw the seriousness in his eyes, she knew there was no turning back. She would have to satisfy the insatiable hunger for suffering the her father had.
She crawled on her knees toward me and my first thoughts that came to my mind was, "What is she doing!? There is no way....." But before I knew it, she had been fumbling with my zipper and I can see my senior thoroughly enjoying the sight of my sister suffering. For some strange reason, anger boiled up inside of me. I thought about what I would have done if it was Starr on her knees instead of Shana. Then I thought about what Mark would do if he were in my position and I knew I would have to do something.
She saw rebellion in my dark eyes and whispered softly, "Just let it happen, Jordan. It'll be over quick and it'll make you feel......." Tears rolled down her face as I realized the only reason she was even in this predicament was because she had been trying to protect me. My mother had died protecting us from the evilness of this man, and now my sister is in danger. Well I decided then I would not be a part of this anymore.
I raised from my seat and pushed her to the side. She tried to grab at my pants, anxious to please our dominator, but I would be dominated no longer. I would save her one way or another.
The senior stormed from his vantage point with anger steaming from his ears. I just turned around and left. I was going to come back with reinforcements. I was going to come back with Mark. I heard him kick Shana viciously into to the TV, the shattered pieces falling on her unconscious body. "I'm sorry Shana, but after I come back, we will never have to worry about the devil again."
I continued to walk as I heard me senior taunt me. "You some kind of faggot now, boy!?" O heard him grab an old shotgun he had used for hunting once. Now I sensed it was me who he seen as prey, but I couldn't stop. My mission was clear. "You too good for us now, boy!?" Just keep talking. The farther I get away from that house, the less chance you have to escape your fate. The less chance you have to hurt Shana. "I guess you're too good for us now huh Jordan!?" He cocked his shotgun and it was then that I realized that I would never see my dream come true, but I knew if I could reach a little farther, he would not be able to hurt anyone else ever again, at least no one who was close to me. "Well how 'bout we let God decide if you're to good for us!!!!!"
And with that the last thing I felt was the buckshots tearing through my back. I saw my dreams leave along with my soul and the last images I saw was the memory of Mark smiling before he had left me, and the image of my sister somewhere happy. I know if Mark were here, he'd be so proud of me. He would tell me, "A coward dies a million deaths, a soldier but one." That's an old Tupac line if I remember right. Maybe I'll get to meet him if I'm lucky. No matter where my soul's destination was, it has to be better than living in hell where the devil is your father and the tortured is your sister. Who knows? Maybe I changed that with my sacrifice, and after that thought, my eyes closed forever.