Chapter 04|Playlist from hell

Chapter 04|Playlist from hell

 " I don't need any break, if I ain't fighting, if I ain't in any adrenaline deriving activity, then I feel lifeless." Her voice rose even higher with each word. "Being on a break makes me lifeless!"

   "Well forgive me, for trying to introduce normality once again into your psychopathic lifestyle," he shouted, his voice booming and echoing in the courtyard. "You are acting like a freak."  

   There was remorse in His eyes seconds later. "Jas, you know I didn't mean that." He stated, trying to hold her hand.

   Her eyes hardened and she took three steps back nodding with a smile.

   "Maybe I am a freak, a monster that derives pleasure from watching people's blood on the floor, did I also tell you that these days I crave the metallic scent of blood? and just maybe I would have appreciated my birthday if it came with a fucking killing spree but as you feel all fly, why don't you choke with the fact that I am the monster you made!" and with that, she stormed out of the courtyard.

   Her legs broke into a run as his words kept echoing in her head "a freak" again and again like a playlist from hell on repeat.

***

She raises her brow, at the number of the native members still crowded in the courtyard.

   It was dusk already and their appearances only meant it was either they have gone along and threw a party even without the celebrant or her uncle was having a meeting with them without her.

   As she covered more distance between herself and the crowd, she could feel the gloomy mood on the air.

   She noticed that the infirmary was crowded and she rolled her eyes, wondering who got themselves injured or worst dead.

   The thought of putting on a show and going for another burial ceremony didn't thrill her one bit.

  Good, just perfect she sarcastically thought as she could sense a heated argument that will soon ensue between her and her uncle as he will bore her with his four-letter mantra.

   The natives are family.

   Chuks sighted her from afar and rushed towards her, his eyes red, evident that he has been crying.

   "Who this time?" she casually asked as she removed her earplugs from her ear.

   His lips quivered as he opened his mouth and closed it repeatedly, still stunned. 

   Jasmine rolled her eyes, irritated by his silence.

   "Sir Young... Sir Young got shot. He is currently at the infirmary__" she didn't hear the rest of his voice as her legs took off to the infirmary in the courtyard in the left-wing.

   She stared at her uncle, not believing it was him looking so pale like death as she walked towards his bed, eyes still on him.

   The room was empty. It was a custom in the native for none of the members to see their leader in a state of despair or anguish, it makes sure they remember him as a god. Except his second in command and of course the medical practitioner.

   Mark, The Native's doctor had already exited the room immediately she entered. Figuring they needed some time alone.

   "It isn't a simple, exit wound. The bullet in his stomach had damaged his internal organ. His lungs. It is only a matter of minutes." She remembered Mark saying, his eyes teary.

  It was difficult for him to accept it, to accept that the man who had saved him from himself at a time in his life, when suicide seemed beautiful and an easy choice was going to die and there was nothing he could do about it. 

   Young grinned at her and she rolled her eyes not believing he was being goofy even at a time like this.

   "How did you get even uglier?" She asked, shaking her head in disapproval.

   They both chuckled.

   "We knew today will arrive at our doorstep. Subconsciously, we were aware that just one day, I might not get so lucky."

   She scoffed.

   "You always get lucky. This does not look half as bad as other of your injuries." She whispered, even though she knew that this was the end. "I can't possibly get rid of you so easily."

   He chuckled.

   "Both of us know, it is a matter of minutes. Every breath I take from now is a gift," He whispered, whimpering in pain as he made to move his leg. "I am just so glad I was opportune to get to say goodbye." 

   "Just stop saying trash and beat this too. Come home like you always do and I will eat all the cake you had bought. Serotine and all." Her voice was a harsh whisper.

   His hand made to reach hers but couldn't. She brings her hand close to his, enclosing his rough bigger hand in hers.

   "I didn't mean any of the things I said today. Even though you can use a gun, you will remain to me, the Jasmine that wounded her hand tightly around me, crying in my chest while whispering Papa."

   She shook her head, her lips in a straight line.

   "I can't believe we argued over something so silly."She murmured, sitting down next to him on the bed. " I care less about any of the things you said at this point."

   "I can still remember that night, after a very heated night session with a woman I had picked at the bar.." Jasmine made a disgusted face, he chuckled.

   ".. I had woken up to your incessant calls. All I thought about after hearing you, was how I was going to kill Tony again for abandoning me and then dumping such a big responsibility on me." He admitted.

   "I was quite a handful__"

   "When I saw you with your untamed Full long Afro hair just like his, crying and whispering to yourself, still clutching the phone. My heart that I thought I didn't own, Beat."

  She touched her hair consciously, which was plaited into weaving. Taming her very strong full hair had been one hell of a challenge especially as a fighter who had to get her hands dirty more than once and consequently even her hair.

   She had flirted with the idea of cutting it or perming her wild black virgin hair but whenever she saw the picture of her father with his, looking so fearless with her uncle beside him, it made her feel so close to him. So she left it.

   "Watching you grow and blossom into who you are today has been one of the most amazing moments of my life. No nightstand, no drinking spree, the adrenaline of always being on the move, the high of fighting, none of them can compete with that." 

   She stayed there silently. Just holding his hands trying to process that this was his last conversation with her. His farewell words and he was going to leave her, just like others had.

   "I know you are capable of being a feared leader but I want you to be more than that to the members of the Native. You are way more than just Jasmine who could get the job done." He smiled at her, his words dropping in volume with each second that passed. "I have seen the way you worry about Chucks." 

   "You have a heart Jasmine, it's there. Allow the love you have tried to shy from for long to blossom in your heart for them. Please be more patient and try to attend their fucking burials, listen to their preachers recite Ecclesiastes again and again. She chuckled, despite how she felt. "Because well there is a time to die. Mine is now." 

   He struggled to keep his eyelids which wanted desperately to be closed, open.

   "You want to know a secret?" He asked, conspiratorially.

   She inched closer towards him.

  "I am just saying all this to delay meeting up with my brother, also known as your father. We just might have a conversation, involving a few blows." He paused, shaking his head, "I must be dumb to die on your birthday. Just giving you another reason, to love the day passionately, ain't I?"

  "Please don't talk about dying.. please." She pleaded.

   "In between our heated arguments when we had to hurl hurtful words at each other to our squabbles on who'll do the dishes. I never stopped loving you, not even for a split second Jasmine. You are the best thing that has happened to a wretched criminal like myself." 

  "I love you." She whispered, saying the word she had longed so much to finally voice on many occasions that were always at the tip of her mouth hovering but difficult to admit.

  A tear rolled down his cheeks.

  He stilled and his hand she was holding, became stiff.

  She waited for some minutes, waiting to maybe feel her cheeks get damp but nothing happened instead of sadness, she felt numbness.

   She covered his eyelids with her palm and then stood up leaving the infirmary like it was just some random stranger that had died and not the man who had baked cookies for her to go to school every day and had agreed to role play dress-up with her at 12.

  She stared at the curious faces of the native members. All 22 of them. Her uncle's family, now hers. She thought.

  She could see the glint of hope in their eyes regardless of the verdict of the doctor. Because no matter how much they saw him get badly wounded, they always saw him walk out of that infirmary. He was a god figure to them, to her she thought. Invincible, Untouchable, and Unkillable.

  "He is dead." Her words were muffled, her throat felt constricted as she whispered the one word that she never thought she'll be saying anytime soon about another person dear to her heart.

   She watched men shatter and bawl their eyes out enviously. Men that he had taken a bullet for more than once, given them a new purpose, brought them under his wings. Saved them from debt, gangs that were out for their blood.

   She wanted to scream and cry the loudest because he was more than a leader to her, he was the man that had sobbed during her convocation, framing her certificate in his office, and had brought up her first class result in almost every discussion for weeks.

   But she just stood and watch them, her stoic almost lifeless expression illuminated by the moon.

  And then she was running towards the house, overwhelmed by this dumb reality, how surreal the moment felt, how fast and how false the theory life was, ignoring the familiar voices of Kehinde and Chidi as they tried to stop her.