Vicious Is The Name That They Gave Me: A Philly Story

Vicious

is the name that they gave me

A Philly Story

Copyright
2016

Published By CheckMyBookstore Publishing

All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, live or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Unauthorized reproduction, in any manner, is prohibited.

By: Ive

Acknowledgements

First I would like to thank my Lord and savior for blessing me with this amazing gift to write.

This book is dedicated to all my supporters!

About Me

I grew up in Philly and ever since I was young I had a passion to write. I wrote poetry, short stories, and novels. During my childhood into my teenage years and early adult life, I had a few mishaps, setbacks, and struggles but writing is what kept me sane. Whenever I was feeling weak, depressed, or lost I put it into my writing. I used writing to explain my feelings, my thoughts, and escape from whatever I was dealing with. Writing is what saved my life and kept me on a positive track. Every time I would fall, I had to learn how to get back up and start over again. I had to learn how to redirect my life. Writing takes me to a place where my mind can relax and I can have peace of mind. If it wasn’t for writing, I don’t know where I would be. From where I came and to the place I am now I can truly say that I am blessed. I know this is what I was born to do. I want to share my stories with you all and I know you will enjoy it. Thanks for reading!

Love Ive

Chapter 1

Vicious

“Jezebel, where is Dollah’s money?” I heard the man ask my mother while pointing a gun at her skull.
All I could do is pray that this man does not hurt my mother.

“Please Ron. I don’t have it right now. But tell Dollah I will have it soon, I promise,” My mother whined. I didn’t know who Ron was but I figured my mother got herself into some type of trouble once again. This is just like her. She’s always getting into trouble. I don’t think she’ll ever learn from her mistakes.
No, she doesn’t. If she would stop getting high so much, maybe her sense might come back to her.
She gets high so much, it’s ridiculous.

“No Jezebel, he isn’t playing your little games today. Where the fuck is the money?” his anger grew as he cocks the gun back.

“Oh, God, please Ron, don’t kill me. I’ll have it soon,” My mother begged.

“What’s soon? In an hour, tomorrow, the next day, like when?” he asked impatiently.

“Just soon,” my mother answered.

“You have until tomorrow morning,” Ron ordered.

“Come on, I can’t have it that quick. I need more time,” she pleaded.

“What the fuck have you been doing these last couple of months? Just spending shit, thinking you aren’t going to pay shit back? Tomorrow morning by eight,” he said. My mother nodded her head at the same time. She knew she was going to pay a heavy price. I didn’t know the whole story with my mother’s involvement, but I was positive damage would be done if she did not pay. Ever since I could figure out what my mother has been doing, I’ve seen her do drugs, have sex, steal, and lie, over and over again. I’ve witnessed her get beaten, slapped, force to have sex, abused, and neglected for the actions she chose to take such as lying and not paying back. I could have questioned her plenty of times about her trifling deeds, but for some reason I decided not to. I was focused on other things, like trying to get an education. I was expelled from high school because of truancy and my mother didn’t bother to ever try and put me back in school. See, I actually wanted to go to school. Some teenagers don’t. That’s not me. I am not one of those teenagers that want to be around and get into trouble. I don’t want to be out running the streets like others do. I know the teenagers’ population is fucked up right now. A lot of teenagers my age is running the streets and get caught up in dumb shit and having babies.
That isn’t me. I want to get out and try to have the life that I want for myself. But how? God, please give me a way out.

“As a matter of fact, why don’t you give me some head before I go back,” He requested turning back toward her direction.

“No, Ron, I am not even in the mood for all that,” My mother rejected.

“Bitch, did I ask if you were in the mood?” Ron asked.

“Ron,” My mother called and he smacked her with the side of his gun. She let out a sigh.

“Shut up and suck my dick. You know you want to, so don’t front bitch,” He demanded. As my mother laid on her back bleeding from her small wound on her lip, he stood over her. He began to unbutton his pants and held his penis in his hand.
Normally, I would cry but I’m done crying.
I’ve cried so much that I’ve gotten used to seeing her do the unthinkable. But to her, it’s being smart.
See, I just don’t get that bullshit.

“Here,” He positioned his manhood to the center of her mouth.

“Suck it real hard, like you usually do,” he said and she did what she was told,
as usual.
I refuse to cry any more. I am done with crying my eyes out for someone who continues to make the same mistake. I’ve cried too much over her ways which now have become her lifestyle.
This is her life. So why would I cry for what she chooses to do with her life?
I have seen her do the unthinkable, but in her mind it’s called being smart.
See, I just don’t get that bullshit.

Although I was fifteen, I knew a lot just by observing my mother’s behavior. I was a virgin, but knew how to have sex by watching my mother. She made her money by having sex with guys. She also made her money by selling drugs, making drugs, stealing, and lying her way out of almost everything she could think of. I never sucked on a guy, but I know what to do, by watching my mother. I watched my mother as she sucked Ron’s dick.
It isn’t the first time. It’s about the hundredth time she has done it.
I didn’t understand my mother and her trifling ways. I’m not sure if this is how a mother and a daughter should even be living.
No, I know for a fact, this isn’t right. But, I can’t get out of it. Where am I going to go? I don’t have anywhere to go, but to stay here. I’m not eighteen, so I can’t live on my own and I don’t work
a shelter? And say what? My mother is a whore and a drug addict. Should I report her to the police? They’ll probably take me away and place me in a foster home. And what if-
that was it?
I couldn’t think of other places where I could stay. Even though I hated how my mother lived her days, I still couldn’t abandon her. I keep praying to God that he will make a way for me. I keep praying to God to give me the strength to get up and leave.
Sometimes, it seems like God doesn’t even answer me. God, do you hear me as I have been crying out to you?

I never met my father. My mother told me he left her for a white woman. My mother told me I was her only child. I find that hard to believe for some odd reason. Not too long ago, some mail came for my mother. It was pictures of a little girl and a man with a note. It read Imani and I are doing fine without you. I hope when Vicious grows up, she will find the strength to leave before you hurt her, like you did us. You put her life in jeopardy every day. I asked my mother about it, but she smacked me and told me not to ever question her again. My mother purposely kept me out of school and forced me to help her get money. I didn’t want to, but I didn’t have a choice. I wanted to go to school, make friends, and hang out. Instead I was always in the middle of confrontation with my mother and whatever she didn’t do, that she was supposed to do. Whether it was paying someone back, making drugs, or getting drugs. She made it part of my daily chores to make sure she had drugs.
It doesn’t even make sense. Whatever the case was, I had to be to help her always, and she calls that being smart. The bullshit I deal with.
After my mother was done, Ron got up.

“And you better have the money, Jezebel. You aren’t getting off so easy like those other times,” he said leaving out the door. I didn’t join my mother’s company just yet. I stood there and watched her. She got up and went to lock the door.
Look at her. She acts like everything is normal, how? You got pistol whipped and just gave oral sex to a guy that probably sleeps around.

“You can come out now, he left,” I heard her say out loud.

“
Who else is here?”
A naked guy came out of her bedroom naked and approached my mother.
Who is this guy? He’s probably one of her side dudes. She has about twelve of them and counting.

“Are you alright?” he asked wiping the blood from her lip.

“No, I’m not alright. Where am I going to get fifty thousand dollars from, before tomorrow morning?” she asked dropping her head onto his bare chest.

“Damn, Jez, how do you owe that much? What the hell did you do?” he asked her.

“Don’t even worry about it. I have an idea. Vicious, Vicious come here,” My mother called.
I didn’t want to go.
I was used to being mixed up in her dangerous schemes. I wondered what she was going to make me do now. I walked out into the living room and there, I saw my mother sitting beside the unknown naked man holding his penis in her hand. I thought my mother would at least have the dignity to cover him up.
Again, it’s her trifling ways. To her, it’s being smart.
I Put my head down and answered.

“Yes,” I responded.

“Pack some clothes,” She ordered.

“Where are we going?” I asked her.

“Don’t ask any questions, just do what I said,” she said. I rolled my eyes and walked away.

“Vicious,” she called. She saw what I did. I turned around.

“Roll your fucking eyes again and see what I do to them,” She threatened.  I was not scared of my mother. I knew her strengths and weaknesses.
She wasn’t going to do a thing but continue to please this unknown man.
I went into my room and began packing. The way my mother made her income wasn’t legal, but she did provide for me well.
Not that it was okay to make money like that.
I had all the latest designer clothing and sneakers out. My mother said I’m not allowed to wear anything baggy. Everything had to be tight and fit.

My mother told me, “Make sure your ass stands out, so dudes can see,”
I am not even looking for any attention from dudes. That’s her ass.
When I am in public, people think I am eighteen or older because I looked so mature. While packing my clothes, I heard a noise coming from the living room.

“No, Ron, you said tomorrow morning,” I heard my mother yell.

“Shut up! Do you think I would let your ass slide again?” Ron said. I went to my door and peeked out. Ron and another man were in the apartment.

“Jezebel,” the unknown man said.

“Yes. Dollah,” my mother answered crying and he smacked her. She fell to the floor.
She just keeps getting smacked to the floor.

“Stop playing games with me. You play too fucking much. That’s why your ass is in this mess. Now where is my money bitch? Before you answer, I don’t want to hear the words ‘I don’t have it right now,’ come out your mouth. Time is up,” Dollah said loudly. She didn’t answer. I didn’t see the naked guy from earlier.
Where did he go?

“Alright, time’s up. Kill her,” Dollah demanded. Ron went over to my mother and held the gun up to her head.

“No, wait. You can take Vicious and do whatever you want with her,” My mother said.
What? Do whatever? This man can beat my ass. Rape me. Assault me. Pimp me out. What is she thinking? Then again, to her it’s called being smart.
I could not believe she said that. What could possess her to say words like that? I am her daughter and she’s not supposed to do that.
There are times that I feel like a motherless child. Today is one of those days.

“Is she a smut like you?” Dollah asked.

“You could make her one,” My mother suggested.
No he can’t, I’m not you. I’m not a smut.
How could she say something like that? I knew my mother could lie and make up things to get out of trouble, I never thought she would put me on the line to solve her problems. My mother needs to stand up for once and take responsibility for her own actions and stop making me deal with them. Then again, when it comes to these types of situations my mother acts so childish. Sometimes I feel that I am the adult and she is really the child.

“Well, where is she? I want my dick sucked again,” Ron said.
They can do whatever they want to me, because I am not sucking this man’s dick. So if they want to kill me, so be it. It isn’t like my mother is going to defend me. She is already giving me away.

“She’s in the room. Vicious, come out here,” my mother called for me. I didn’t want to go. I didn’t want to leave with Ron and Dollah. I stayed in my room.

“So where the fuck is she? I don’t have all day,” Dollah’s impatience grew.

“She’s in there,” My mother said getting up and walking towards my room. I wish my door had a lock so I could lock myself in my room and jumped out the window.

“Didn’t you hear me calling you? Get your shit and come on,” my mother ordered.

“I’m not going,” I replied, folding my arms on my chest.

“What do you mean, you’re not going? I wasn’t giving you a choice, Vicious. Now, let’s go,” She said grabbing by my arms and taking me out my room.

“Is this her?” Ron asked.

“Yea, Vicious say hi,” My mother said. I kept quiet.

“She’s just a little shy. She’ll grow out of it,” she lied.
Don’t lie. But then again that is what you do for a living, you lie.

“She better grow out of it now, because I don’t like shy girls. Alright, let’s go. And Jez, I still want my money,” Dollah said. I looked at her as she ignored him. She sat back in couch as if everything was okay. I kept holding myself back. Ron basically had to pull me.

“Jezebel, your daughter ignorant as shit. But I know what she needs. She needs some dick and then she’ll be alright,” Ron said as he continued to pull me.

“Vicious, leave,” My mother told me. The same guy that disappeared earlier came out the bedroom.

“Leave? I’m your child, how can you let this happen?” I asked her. Ron picked me up and carried me out.

“Let go of me, let go of me,” I yelled. Once we were outside Dollah walked up to me.

“Listen little girl. Are you going to do what I say and not what you want? I’m your mom now. I don’t have a problem busting your head wide open. But if you chill out I won’t do it,” He told me and I nodded.
Again, where am I going to go? Nowhere, if I run, I strongly feel like Dollah would kill me. I didn’t have a choice but to go with him and Ron.
We got in a black car. Ron drove as Dollah sat in the back with me.