Session: Reality and Rain

Initiation

 

“Remember to remember,” Hayden encourages me. “I will, somebody has to do it, why not me?” I respond while snapping a piece of chocolate into my mouth and put my feet into the clear Naples water. A school of red and white fish swirl around alligators below me, anticipating a slip up. “Why are there Koi Fish in Naples?” I ask the dread-headed man across from me wearing a loud yellow jacket. “Kerrington, what the fuck are you talking about, bro? There are no Koi fish around here,” Lan says in a trademark soft spoken, narrator voice. “Are you alright K?” Lan asks with a suspicious look. I take a hard blink, open my eyes and dust my red gator shoes off on the cream and orange checkered floor. Turning around in my seat, my eyes gaze upon a massive gold and navy-blue curtains behind me. The curtains slowly draw, revealing the mass of unfamiliar faces eagerly staring back at me. They are not looking at me..just fans of the band. The crowd erupts as J, the benevolent showman, walks on the stage. His retro, 3 piece blue pinstripe suit flashes in the limelight. In front of the camera, a stern face sets the tone for the respect he commands. I see the laughter you hide as the strings are pulled. I turn my head back to the light blue, smoky, marbled table and place my hand on it. My hand immerses in the smoke, blending and dispersing like sand in water. A cloudy voice reaches my subconscious, “Kerrington,” Virgo whispers to me, “I want you up here. No need to come down, just know I have your back.” Slowly looking up, I see the people I have become accustomed to.

 

 

 

The usual suspects are here.  

—————————————————————————————————————————————————————-

 

The Ladies of M.I.L.F.S After Dark are the notorious duo with an uncanny ability to have men divulge their private life. From sex life to the way you wash your ass-no topic is off the table with these two. Men learn quickly that humble pie taste like shit after they get through with you. Any topic is up for discussion, but it is not for us men to even suggest ideas. Speak when you are spoken to-that is the speed limit to drive. Presenting a duality like no other, I constantly find myself drawn to them. I want to know more about them, but after watching them cut men in half, I need to choose my approach wisely.

 

To my right sits Virgo, a pretty and voluptuous Latina, who carries the banner of sexual liberation. When I stare at her, I can see her aura flare from electric blue, to poison ivy bright green. The blue is what draws most people to her, soft yet exciting. Suddenly, the bright green has you imprisoned without realizing it. The pressure she exerts is best described as the sensation of free falling from the sky while being stuck in quicksand. I have seen many braggadocious men approach her chambers, full of bravado, only to succumb to her charm and become footrests. Terrifyingly beautiful to watch. Why are you still an enigma to me? 

 

 

The smoke show of a woman sitting next to Virgo is Spooky. Class oozes from her mouth when she speaks and is well respected by everyone at the table. Eye candy, empathy, willing to learn and be accountable. If I had a dollar for the amount of times she’s been called, “Wifey Material,” I would have a fleet of lambo’s in the garage of my mansion. I enjoy your emotional intelligence the most. I’d rather have you as my sister..I probably would have not fucked up as much.

 

 

The High School Detention Class is the rambunctious cast of characters who undoubtedly start every food fight in the cafeteria. Usually, the class has a wholesome conversation for 8 minutes before escalating to a group of close friends cooking each other. With this many combustible personalities, you may think the house can burn down at any moment. However, there is an underlining hint of family love that they have for each other. This love is never more evident when they gang up for their favorite sport: bullying new students. Newcomers to detention are not welcomed in nicely. Most can expect their notebooks smacked out of the hands, being tripped on the way to their seat and have their lunch money stolen.

The class is led by the infamous Maalik, the student who bares the superlative of, “Most likely to be suspended from school”. In his classic N.E.R.D. hat and Ice Cream jacket, he somehow finds a way to weasel out of any tough situation and turn it beneficial. Short in stature but stands tall with his comprehension and analytical prowess when dealing with anyone who talks sideways. My brother from another mother. Mine told me to pick my battles, yours must have told you to fight every battle. You would think his slick talk would be effective in keeping him in school, but his report card and discipline record say otherwise.

Maalik’s little sister, Amala, is one of the newest members of detention. At first glance, this sweet, wide eyed woman looks out of place in the class. A freshman experiencing the world for the first time, naïve to the ways of upperclassmen and only protected by her brother. Unfortunately, Amala fell into the wrong crowd. Amala’s metamorphism began when she sat next to Henny and joined her after school bootcamp. Right before my eyes I witnessed Amala begin to wear Timberland boots and high-top black Air Forces to school. Without provocation, she will shove men into lockers-bullying men. Bullying men who compliment her looks. Bullying men who say, “Good morning,” to her. Bullying men when they open the door for her.  Scary hours. I have not said a word to Amala in three weeks and I have a white flag in my pocket ready to wave. I want to no smoke.

The investigator sitting at the table observing everyone is, Vanessa. A sexy fox in all black, dressed for some liar’s funeral. Underestimating Vanessa is what you don’t do. Her intuition drives her self-made lifestyle-not her looks.  It’s easy to fall for her disarming smile and golden highlights, but equally impressive is her ability to descry the ingenuine. Lies get dressed down to the floor when she comes around and it’s my pleasure to watch. Failing her vibe check means it’s a wrap for you.

The Dominican in the silver Moncler jacket with a Brooklyn voice is, Henny. A woman whose mouth flies as fast as her hands and is ready to pop off at the first sign of disrespect. When I close my eyes and listen to her talk, I can hear the N.Y. State of Mind beat playing. Her Rottweiler, Doffy, sits at attention next to her. Outfitted in a red collar embroidered with the letters “B.B.”, he carefully watches Henny’s back. I have heard the bark from this big ass dog, I don’t think anyone wants to see the bite. There is no façade to Henny’s NYC attitude, she will slap you and your mother if you don’t come correct, however, beneath the surface is a saccharine individual. A student who writes her emotions on sheets of paper to be delivered powerfully in front of crowds. “Kerrington, move along with this staring. You buggin’ bro,” Henny says to me with an icy look.

Without a second thought, I immediately turn my head to the talkative Mimi. The self-proclaimed narcissist, who ended up in detention after writing, “I know I’m a bad bitch” on every chalkboard in the school. There was no investigation needed: we all knew it was her doing. Mimi’s propensity to be heard is only outmatched by her will to fight anyone in class. As the undisputed queen of controversy, she will stand her ground no matter how trivial the matter is. A real one-woman army who maintains her beauty standards, and obsession for herself. I love me some me too.

Closing out our table is the resident ladies’ man: Lan. The classroom keeps rain boots on deck for flash flooding when he opens his DM’s. A gentleman with impeccable music taste, catches a woman’s favor faster than he pushes the button to start his car. Goat Lan, as the women affectionately call him, normally partners with Maalik to keep the detention class wild, yet somehow escapes punishment due to his calm demeanor and smooth cadence in his voice.

 

—————————————————————————————————————————————————————-

The waitresses have yet to stop staring at Anakin’s jaw line. We are never going to eat. “Anakin, daddy, I have never been to California before, would you take me and my sister around? I heard you have a Hellcat. We can show you how real women take care of high-value men,” the tipsy waitress says while rubbing Anakin’s shoulder. Anakin starts to smirk and confidently states, “I’ll see if I can fit you into my high value schedule,” “OOOOHHHH BROTHER,” Maalik eye rolls. ” I get where you are coming from ladies,” Maalik continues. “We know he is Mr. Bitches and you’re having a good time. I get it, I’m not faulting you for it at all. However, I do think you should at least take our orders. That way we can satisfy everyone at the table before this gets out of hand. I know some people are already annoyed by being neglected and want to order. Just say, I understand.”

“THERE YA GO AGAIN WITH THAT TALK MAALIK,” a familiar, attention-grabbing voice yells from the other end of the table.

 

Where did you come from, Tee? Who gave you a seat?

 

Tee: ALWAYS TRYNA’ PLAY GOOD COP BAD COP, PLAYA. I BEEN SEEING YOU!

Maalik: Tee the yelling. Just keep it down.

Tee: YEA, YEA. WHAT’S UP WITH THIS TALKIN’ IM TRYNA’ GET TO THE FOOD, THE FUCK YOU TALMBOUT’?

I glance over at Virgo to see the disgust on her face and the eye rolls from Spooky. “It’s everyday with this shit,” Virgo says, “Can’t even go 5 minutes without the drama.” The table’s energy begins to deteriorate, and its obvious things are steadily going downhill. I think it’s about that time to move. We have seen this movie before. “I’m not going to make it,” I calmly say to Spooky. Staring at her white tiger print top, I find myself lost watching the stripes exhale as she breathes. “You never come sit with us, and you are going to bail like that?” she responds. Fine, I’ll give it one more shot. The table conversation is still escalating, and I become more and more disinterested by the second.

 

Mimi: Damn, Tee ain’t got no inside voice… You that hungry? I’ll snatch Kerr Bear’s Lace front and feed it to you. I know you will eat anything. I’m not wearing a lace…..and Kerr Bear?? Who told you that?

 

Tee: YOU KNOW TEE GONNA EAT, YA HEARD! IN THE CITY DON’T MATTER WHERE, YOU KNOW I’M OUT IN L.A., FLORIDA, TEXAS, WISCONSIN! And in China, Liverpool, to Eygpt. We got it.

 

Vanessa: Oh, they have crab legs? That’s what I’m going to get. I love crab legs!

 

Boos erupt from the crowd after Vanessa speaks. I turn to see the orchestrator of chaos, J, facing the crowd chucking up the deuce.

 

Vanessa: What’s wrong with crab legs?

 

The crowd becomes hectic after every word Vanessa says and I start to notice more and more black Air Force One’s being laced up. Unaware of the sensitivity in the black community about crab legs, Vanessa backs off. News to me as well but a good call.

 

Lan: Tee, if it came down to you and Vanessa over the last crab legs, what would you do?

 

Tee: I’LL BE ON THEM CRAB LEGS! FUCK YOU TALMBOUT?

 

Amala: There Lan goes, instigating as usual.

 

Henny: J TAKE HIS SEAT!

 

Maalik: Tee, I be trying to save you, but you really do this to yourself.

 

Henny: Tee, this is why we can’t bring you anywhere.

 

Tee: OH HENNY, I’VE BEEN WAITING TO GET ON YOU. YOU KNOW I’M NOT THE ONE!

 

Henny: We know you not the one- you’re number 2. The FIRST loser. Shoulda ate a Snickers before we left, ya popped. Deadass we should throw you in the ocean and see if you make it out. 

 

Tee: AH, HOLD UP. YOU GONNA DO TEE LIKE THAT TWIN. YOU DON’T KNOW HOW I GET DOWN. ALL OF Y’ALL BITCHES!

 

“SILENCE!” J says emphatically. The table instantly freezes like an ice cube, and nobody says a word. Not that we could hear each other as the spectators’ bellow in laughter. J begins to scan the table and clear his throat before addressing us.

 

J: I invite you all to dinner and-

 

Tee: I was just tryin’

 

J: Excuse me, silence!

 

Tee: Get down on the menu

 

J: Silence!

Everyone:

 

J: Ahem. I invite you all to dinner, bringing people together. Because that’s what I like to do. That’s the type of man that I am….and Tee you decide to be sick and sinister. Causing chaos in the sanctuary I created. Now Tee I want you to behave as if, Sarah is sitting next to you. Yes I know about Sarah, I have eyes everywhere. Show this table and myself that level of respect. You can speak now.

 

Tee: I just want to say I apologize to everyone at the table. Especially to the women here. I know that I have a lot of growing to do and I will get there.

 

J: Thank you Tee for showing some accountability, but I have seen this story befo-

 

Henny: Take his fucking seat!

 

J: Excuse me Henny, I got this. 

 

J snaps his fingers quickly in succession and security removes Tee from his seat. The brash man’s yelling of obscenities gradually fades out as he is escorted from the stage to the exit. J clears his throat and turns to me. “Kerrington, as a respectable man of your stature, you have been quiet up here. What’s going on?”

 

 

Standing up from my seat, I can feel the crowd yearning for more action. I move how I want to, not for any of you. “I’m just doing me man, but I’m going to bounce. I need to find something else to do.”

 

 

All I Want

I leave the arena to be greeted by a light breeze and the Italian sunshine. I take in the moments to touch the grass, soak in a new environment and reflect on the happiness I have enjoyed being around new friends. But I must do my own thing. The city is vibrant, full of flashy outfits, street vendors, buildings built on water, and green mountains that touch the sky. I feel at home seeing the trees waving in the breeze and Austin becomes an afterthought. The street is as dark as midnight and so sleek that I can’t tell if the ground is wet. I take a moment to gather myself before I walk towards the merging sidewalk. My walking comes to a halt, and I stand before two individuals raring for a piece of each other. As I get closer, I see a tall man with long flowing locks push a much shorter man with braids. “Him at least I know you’re not fake and you showed up. But I don’t give a motherfuck! I told you I’d whoop your ass for 40 days and 40 nights if I caught you out here,” the tall man belligerently yells. “Sean, do I really have to send you back to that cardboard box you live in? Or was it the trailer park? Doubt they will let you show your face after this,” He responds and then lunges at Sean. The fists begin to fly; Sean, using his height and reach to keep Him at bay until he grabs Sean’s legs for a takedown. The unfamiliar crowd suddenly surrounds the fight like a pack of buzzards. “Do you want some popcorn?” a random face asks me with the bag extended. Y’all are really treating this like Tyson-Hollyfield. “Nah, I’m good. Why did y’all leave the J show?” I respond as the crowd erupts at the first sight of blood. “Mimi ended up getting a microphone from J. If I have to hear about how bad of a bitch she is again, I will lose it” the unfamiliar face scoffs at me. I look back and see the crowd has grown larger and now I am shoulder to shoulder, just another brick in the wall. I think I have seen enough drama for one day. I start to move through the crowd and look for my first chance for some privacy. The stores around have their upsides, but my eyes are drawn to an all-famous monogram.

 

Rain, by SVW plays throughout the Louis Vuitton store and I find myself staring. Not at the bags. Not at the clothes. The rain falls from the ceiling, dousing the many shoppers who have their eyes fixated on the same prize I do. The adrenaline flowing in my body carries me closer to the woman stealing the show. Sizing her up and down, I become infatuated with her presence; dressed in a black top with denim jeans. Her vibrant purple aura drapes around her crème caramel complexion, leaving her unfazed by the falling water. You can dress as subtle as possible, but you will still stand out.

My excitement comes to an apex; struggling to find the words to introduce myself. You have nothing to lose. Just calm down and say, “Hello”. I tap her shoulder and she turns to me, raising her hands to stroke her long and lustrous dark hair.

You are absolutely stunning. How do you have the nicest forehead I have ever seen? The size of it. The clear skin. Wow. Okay, pull it together, stop staring at her forehead and say something.

 

I meet her burnt sienna-colored eyes and dopamine rapidly washes over my adrenaline. My heart begins to beat like a clock and time quickly decelerates. My feet no longer stand on the hard tiled floors of the Louis Vuitton store, but a mass of plush cumulus clouds. Am I…floating? Don’t let me come back down to earth. “Hello?” she asks me inquisitively, raising one of her flawlessly done eyebrows. Find your freaking tongue Kerrington. “Excuse me miss, do you know if they have the monogram shawls here?” I ask and quickly take a breath. She cracks a smirk. “I’m just doing some shopping, but nice try,” she giggles while easily seeing through me. “Does that, do you work here, line actually work on women?”

 

“Well, aren’t you sharp?” I ask confidently while catching my second wind. “First time trying that but I would be an idiot if I did not tell you something important before I left.” I take a quick pause to gather myself, experiencing two seconds of reprieve as 2 minutes, and take one last look at her forehead. “I love the way that you take care of your skin. I’m really into nice foreheads and looking at yours makes me melt. Its giving…Mariah Carey for days…I don’t know if We Belong Together, but All I Want for Christmas is You.” 

 

A smile erupts from her face and her laughter engulfs the entire room. I can feel the eyes of the other customers upon us, but mine never deviate from hers.

“Ya know that was pretty good,”(she flips the right side of her hair) “How did you come up with that?”

“I have been in the store the last ten minutes, and I was drawn to you. Honestly, I can’t get over how gorgeous you are and I just let it flow. Excuse my manners, my name is Kerrington.”

Her dimples begin to elevate revealing her Duchenne smile. Her blush spanning from ear to ear.

“Oh I’m Diyana,” she extends her hand to me. “Nice to meet you!”

I raise her hand and lightly place my lips against the delicacy of her skin, catching the scent of her Rouge 45 perfume.

 

“Diana? Like Dirty Diana?” I ask her.

“Diyana as in Dee-Yana, Currington,” Diyana exaggerates, tongue in cheek. 

“Alright, alright I got it, Diyana.”

We make our way towards the front of the store, I notice Diyana is holding the last pair of, In The Mood For Love sunglasses. I take a moment to visualize the black sunglasses with gold accents against her complexion. Don’t do it Kerrington. Simping? Trickin’ if you got it? Don’t do it you dumbass.

“Let me get that for you Diyana,” I say while questioning my decisions. “I think those would fit nicely below your forehead.”

“That’s sweet of you, but you don’t have to!”

I take a moment to ignore the message on my credit card and swipe it at the register. Show off. Who do you think you are? Drake? 

“Thank you,” Diyana says while she walks through the door. The crowd of unfamiliar faces encircle the aftermath of the fight. Inside the fighting ring is a short black officer whose name tag bares the initials of “D.B.L.”, cutting off anyone talking and demanding everyone stand back. “Look, I’ll lock both of y’all upif it was up to me! Keep acting up Shane and you will end up just like Him!” Officer D.B.L. exclaims. Him lays there out cold, sinking into the warmth of the Napoli grass. “Hey officer D.B.L., what happened to Him? He has people that depend on him,” I ask. “Well, I was going to let Him walk ‘til he started acting stupid. Running his mouth, I told him keep the tranquilizer on me and look at his dumbass now.” Shane, with a gash above his eye stands up furiously, “Not like I needed you for a motherfuckin’ thing. I would have knocked him out and tucked him to sleep down there myself.”

 

“Shane, you sound stupid as hell. I can get the tranquilizer for your ass too.”

“You will need a mothafuckin’ horse tranquilizer just to get a yawn out of me.”

 

An unbothered Diyana pulls her new sunglasses over her face, “This is like the 5th fight or whatever I’ve seen today. I don’t know how they do it”. Virgo was right…It is every day with this shit. “People get a bit too carried away sometimes. Taking things personally. Sometimes I want to talk and be there for people, but I don’t know if I can really help,” I respond. Diyana stands on her toes and gently places her hand on my cheek. Our faces less than a foot apart, she reveals a mischievous smile. Please have good breath. “Keep yourself the priority,” Diyana’s sweet peppermint breath continues to exhale, “It’s really not worth it to get involved in other people’s drama.”

Amazed by the answer she provided; I digest the possibility that she may be a unicorn. “Nothing but facts there. Anyway, are you free later? How about we exchange numbers, and we can get grab dinner?” I ask while staring at my reflection in her sunglasses. The man staring back at me no longer suffocates within his’ own thoughts. It’s been too long man, suppress the recluse. You mastered yourself, now show yourself. You can offer a lot more than what you present. If you want something, go after it. “Sorry, I am about to meet up with some of my friends,” Diyana dismisses my advances, removing her hand from my cheek. “Would you mind walking me to the docks?”

Brush it off. Float in the river.

I feel a tugging on my jeans and see the attentive Doffy next to me. Care to help me out? This crowd is too much. “Is this your dog? He seems nice.” Diyana asks while reaching to pat his head. Doffy, understanding the assignment, startles Diyana with a soft howl as he walks past her and releases a series of snarls and barks. The crowd, taken aback by the fierce growls, quickly move out the way and provide a path to the next street. Good looking out Doffy. “Yeah lets get out of here Diyana.”

The two lions traverse the street sharing simple conversations. Diyana’s aura dancing furious with my own, raising my curiosity to the brink. “Where are you from? Ya know, your background?” ” I’m Eritrean,” Diyana says proudly. The motherland, eh? “That even sounds sexy,” I remark. “There is no way you have all of this going for you. You must have a massive toe or something.” Diyana’s laughter rings the street as I look down at her feet. Each step she takes on the dark pavement casts light on ground, leaving her illuminated footprints behind. Stop it….Billie Jean?! 

 

I return my focus to her forehead, enjoying the pearly luster of her skin in the sunlight. Goosebumps envelop my arms as my body resubmerges in adrenaline. Why do you have me feeling like I can do anything right now? Diyana, oblivious to the euphoria she’s cast upon me, flips her hair in my direction. “So, what are you about Kerrington?” she asks, as we near the docks.

” I’m a pretty decent writer,” with my tongue in my cheek. “Writer’s block hit me for four years but I have recently been inspired.”

“Oh yeah? Inspired by what?” 

You. You will have me writing for days.

“A certain muse has me believing I’m going to do the damn thing.”

“You talk a big game Kerrington,” Diyana’s soft giggle makes an appearance. “Maybe delusions of grandeur?”

“You will find out. I promise.”

 

At the crosswalk, a familiar man instructs the pedestrians while operating the streetlights. “Wait for the light to turn green,” Officer D.B.L. orders. “When did you get here? Thought you were- ” Officer D.B.L. Sharply cuts me off, “Nah nah, see you don’t listen. I never said I was a police officer, you just assumed that. Now I can’t help your stupid ass if you just going to assume and not let me talk,” crossing guard D.B.L. says sharply.

 

“I literally just saw you-“

“You can cross now. Go!”

 

The streetlight beams a bright green firework into the fair Naples sky. “Thanks for everything and walking with me. You’re sweet Kerrington,” she swoons. “I’m just doing me. It was nice meeting you,” I smile back to her.

Diyana’s dark hair flows with the wind as she walks away from me. Every step she takes furthers my resolve, my drive. I won’t let you just float in my head, damn it. How can I be better? I need to do more to get to where I am meant to be. I hear Diyana’s friends excitingly call for her as she nears the boat. She turns to face me one last time and blows a kiss. The impression of her lips, detailed by rose gold lipstick, rapidly approaches my own. Are our lips compatible? Here it comes..

 

 

5…..I can’t move. Not that I’d want to

 

4….the butterflies are rolling

 

3…her waves are fading me, damn baby

 

2..who are you to make me feel like this?

 

1.I can feel my heart beating in my ear

 

 

Reality Poem

 

 

My eyelids take hard shutters after a lengthy daydream. The tranquility of my dark room is interrupted by the yelling coming from my phone. How long have I been on Twitter spaces? 12:30 AM! Why did I spend seven hours listening to strangers? Standing up, I open my balcony door to be greeted by the wintry winds on this Christmas eve. The bright lights from the surrounding buildings blend into the friendly skies. Witnessing the clouds disperse, revealing the starry night sky provides me a moment of clarity. Simple thoughts of Diyana keep my warmth and I forget it is freezing outside.  I need to talk to her. I can’t miss this window.

 

Returning to my couch to lay out, I find my iPad and Airplay my slowed and reverb playlist to brighten my room.

Streets (Slowed + Reverb) by Doja Cat

I close the endless yelling coming from my phone and launch the note I prepared for Diyana. Even though I missed my opportunity to perform in the Shoot Your Shot Space, writing the note was one of the most enjoyable experiences I have had in a long time. As delightful as it felt to produce something creative- my mind draws blanks as to how a woman, whom I have never said a word to and have only seen her lovely face online, can cause me such ecstasy.

 

 

How did you make me write so effortlessly? Five years of writer’s block telling myself over and over I would write this month or the next….then you come out of nowhere. All the ladies I have interacted with or seen on Twitter and only you intoxicated my body to write my thoughts down. I must reciprocate the way you make me feel…..It’s now or never Kerrington. Steph Curry taught us to shoot from half court. So go to her DM’s and let it fly.

THE END

Written By: Kerrington @Kerring10

Editor: Mandy

Special Thanks

Diyana my muse- thanks for being a good sport about your forehead. I really appreciate you and can’t thank you enough for helping me write again. You will always be special to me.

Mandy we are back like we never left. I appreciate your hard work and encouragement.

Twitter High it’s all love from me to you. Thanks for the good times since December.

MILFS After Dark my favorite show. What more can I say?

Hayden thanks for telling me to “Remember to remember”. Saved my ass when I made the story outline.

J at the end of the day, all of these experiences I have accumulated started in your Twitter Space. Thank you.

February 5, 2022February 24, 2022 by Kerrington Categories: Life experiences 8 Comments

I am to be experienced, not explained

I am back. When you feel the sunshine hit your face, are you reminded of me still? Did you miss me? Could you care-less? Have you been patiently waiting for the smoke to settle to see what I have to say? Did you pray for my uplift or for me to fail? My readers, whoever and wherever you are, I thought about you. Often I admit. I do not have a massive recap of my life events over the past few years. There are some bangers but maybe another time and another medium to express those experiences. As I do reflect on myself, there is always one consistent theme: My life is a double-edged sword. When I’m tasting the peak, I share my ecstasy with anyone willing to embrace. Many of you have felt this when I try to inspire/motivate you to get after what you want in life. The darker side, when I’m on a fall-losing myself, I can become self-destructive. I will make obvious mistakes that do nothing but set me back…. I am ok with that. I will bounce back and come out levitating. What I am not ok with is when it becomes ruinous to those around me. The people close to me understand that I am a wild card and what comes with my spontaneity. I truly value the ones that have stuck around as I play the game of life my way.

“I don’t want people to get caught in the implosion. “
-Me

The last apology I made is hopefully the final one of my life. Yes, I am imperfect and I know eliminating future mistakes is improbable. However, in this situation and with this person, I am not going to mess up again. I had the moment, a culmination of thoughts and memories rushing to my head as I paced In my living room. Sweaty palms, nearly crashing my phone to the ground while lifting to my ear. “Hey Kerrington”, butterflies crowding my stomach at the sound of their ethereal voice. Rallying the choked up words I wanted to say for over a year, all that mattered was one question, “Can you forgive me?”. Thanks for your response, Miss Pretty Face.

“I knew from the first day I met you that you could do anything.”
— Coworker, 2024

Since my last SESSiON, Reality and Rain, my life has been a calculating and meticulous slow lane. Trying to make the right moves and put myself in the best positions to win. I have not been free flowing, or carefree for that matter. Adulting I guess. Even though the results from structure speak for itself, my life- the double edged sword cut my imagination…bleeding out my creativity and stymying my endeavors. Yet, I am grateful to bear the fruits of my labor and the success that I can build upon.

Fortunately, now is the opportune time to put my foot back on the gas. Hello fast lane, I missed you. The work has been put in and I’m ready to let loose. Shit, I missed y’all who even take the time to read what I write. I have many adventures and ideas to put into my future projects. Im really going to be getting after it. Thank you to everyone who has stood around. I know where I’m headed and I’m happy to have you apart of it. I will leave y’all with some things that have been on my mind lately. I love you and yes my book is still in the works! Thanks for floating the river.

“I love spite. It’s pure, powerful thing. It gave me courage. Ya know, I can count on it. I used it when I came back to Atlanta”
-Earnest Marks, Atlanta

My soul rejects spite as fuel. Induced vomiting would be preferable…instead I lose myself. A lost Kerrington is a self-destructing spectacle, everyone is forced to observe me fail fucking crash through the floor. A train wreck is catastrophic but we will not remove eyes from it- a beautiful death. Im done dying. Im done apologizing. I recognize the storm is always going to be there and I must continue fighting the war. Stoicism will be my guide through the eye of the hurricane.

I love fear. It is a sensation that screams at me to be courageous. “The only time a man can be brave is when he is afraid”

-Ned Stark, Game of Thrones

Losing is my biggest fear. Losing.. When shit hits the fan and the writing on the wall reads “Lose”, I don’t need adderall to strengthen my resolve. I welcome butterflies, nerves, adrenaline- whatever you want to call it. As a kid, my body would be overloaded with the rush and every time I knew I was going to kill it. The only thing that matters is doing what I need to do. I’ll be reckless without a thought of my well-being. I’ll use all my resources. I’ll sacrifice my social life, my free time.. “ I don’t care if this is the end. So I’ll use everything” -Gon, HxH

Take care

March 4, 2024March 4, 2024 by Kerrington Categories: Life experiences Leave a comment

Session: Girls Born in The 90’s

“Five, four, three, two, one!” the party goers counted down and begun to celebrate the New Year. Well I made it in time, pretty trashed. Still gathering my bearings and senses, I made my way through the dance floor and into the kitchen area. In the midst of the packed house filled with people in fresh clothes and outfits, one girl stood out-the red haired woman in the red dress. The dress was loud and the curls in her hair made my knees weak. I am smitten. The kitchen was pretty crowded too and there were used solo cups and bottles on every table, counter top and even around the sink. Furthering the clutter, there was a spread of food from sandwiches and grilled meats to assortments of fruit, chips, dips and a giant bowl of Chex mix. “Want to play beer pong?” A random guy asks me. “Yeah I’m down. Fair warning though, I used to be top five in the world,” I boasted while filling up my cups. I cant make shit. After 2 minutes neither of us had made a shot and I called the game off. “I am too drunk to play beer pong and you’re just….. well, bad,” I told him. His face filled with laughter and he put his hand on my shoulder. “You talk a lot of shit for somebody fresh out of high school,” I know I’ve been drinking but did he just say “high school?” “High school?” I responded. “Yeah aren’t you Dax’s lil brother? He said you were being shy and slept in the car. Don’t worry about it man. It’s just nerves,” I popped open my bottle of champagne in my hand and took a pull. Oddly enough, the champagne helped settle my stomach. “I’m 24 ya goof,” I told him with a laugh. “What!? You look 18! My bad brother.” “No worries,” I said while checking the Ohio State score. Thirty-One to Zero. My jaw dropped to the ground and I headed outside to make a phone call.

“Hello?” Taylor answered. ”What happened to our team?!” I asked hysterically. “I don’t know Kerrington, I couldn’t even finish the game. I’m so upset right now. OSU is making me drink so much to feel better,” she said with a sexy cadence in her voice. “Well, you are getting married soon. Are you ready?” I ask her.” YES! I am so ready. A lot of nervous energy, but that’s expected right?” She says excitedly. “Yeah, this is a major event in your life and I want you to know that I support you, 100%. Tell Jakob I said congrats too and thank him for his service. I’ll mail you a wedding gift too. Anyway, Happy New Years pal, I gotta keep drinking too,” I hung up the phone and took a deep pull of the champagne and poured out a drink for the fallen. Looking at my phone, I decide to call back Woody, whose call I missed last week. “Yo, what the fuck is up?” Woody asked excitedly. “I’m posted up. Happy New Years, man!” I respond. “Happy New Years! You know, I gotta say thank you. If we didn’t talk, I would have joined the military by now and been miserable. That’s not me, ya know?” he says while people argued in the background. “Yeah I know man. Better men than you or me serve for this country. So what is next?” I ask him. “YO SLOW THE FUCK DOWN!” he yells at somebody through the phone. He hung up before I could respond, I only heard him arguing with the person driving the car he was in. Well, don’t die tonight. I took another pull of champagne and headed back inside.

The party had not skipped a beat as people were conversing in the hallways, dancing in bedrooms and on the dance floor. I ignored the snorting noses coming from the bathroom and went to the living room. The dance floor was alive and there were balloons on the ground. “Rain drops, drop top!” the people shouted on the floor. I can see my brother towering over the crowd with a royal crown on his head and silver beads around his neck. Glasco was in the corner with a prayer pose while somebody took pictures of him.

Looks like everybody is feeling themselves tonight. On my way towards Glasco, a large man approached with a beer bong. Eye contact was the only communication required and I downed the alcohol like a college frat daddy. That was strong… and not beer. “Vodka….Soda?” I asked him, unsure what I had just drunk. He began to sing, “Rolling down the street, smoking indo, sippin’ on gin and juice!” “Laid back!” I finished for him.

As acquainted played through the speakers, the party took a much chiller-upbeat vive. My vision began to refocus as I came-to from blacking out. The bottle of champagne in my hand was empty, more people had joined the living room to converse, and I had been drawn to the giant bowl of Chex Mix. “A big Weeknd fan, eh?” A voice asks me. How long have we been talking? The woman in the red dress was standing in front of me with a pulsing, green aura. Her curled strawberry red hair was a fantastic sight and her light blue eyes completed the package. “I wouldn’t want to talk about that blow out either if I was you,” she teased and winked at me. “I’m not trying to talk at all, just tryna love you crazy,” I responded, causing a smile to connect her flushed dimples. As she briefly turns around, I admire the tone of her calves, the curves flaunted through the cherry colored dress, and the strawberry hair running down her neck. She turns and greets me with mischievous eyes and places a red champagne flute in my hand. “Put some more inside your cup,” she prescribes me and then proceeds to overflow my flute with a new bottle of bubbly. “And drink til you numb the pain.” We toast and then down our glasses. I ’ma fall in love until you leave me. She refills our flutes and reaches for the buttons on my shirt. “You got me touching on your body,” she said while rubbing my chest. “Your pendant is beautiful. Do you always wear it?” she asked while curiosity takes the wheel and her hand runs through my afro. “Pretty much,” I respond. “It makes me feel good.”

The bright flash from a camera startles me and I realize I have moved.

“That’s the first time you have not worn those sunglasses all day,” Glasco tells me. “I won’t make that mistake again,” I said as I put my sunnies back on. “You know, I’m so disappointed in you. How you gonna stay in the car?” asks Glasco as he sizes me up. “Listen, I caught the spins. At least I made it before midnight. I rallied like a motherfucker!” I said emphatically. “You got the spins? I didn’t realize that. Well then, you have been pretty interactive tonight considering.” “Yeah, I come back like 32.” “What the fuck are you talking about?” “Like Magic Johnson. #32.” “Oh, whatever. Face the camera, we look icy.” The camera flashes were much tamer through my shades and I was getting back to my zone.

“What were you praying for earlier?” I asked Glasco. “I was praying for my enemies, for they know not what they have done. Now you pray,” he tells me. I put my hand together and take a deep breath, “I know I’m so far gone, but they can thank me later when the smoke settles,” I begin to pray to the Six God while Glasco hypes me up with adlibs. “I’ll take care of my affairs and then dip out. After that the women will tell me nothing was the same, but they’re just views in the Maserati rear view mirror as I write more of my life!” I finished to Glasco’s approval.

“You know how to get into my apartment right? I’m going back with this girl,” Glasco tells me out side of the party. “Glasco, bring your unicorn dick over here!” a woman demands from inside a car. Unicorn dick?!? Glasco doesn’t think twice and he turns around to get into a car with two girls and a guy. “Yeah, I remember the code. Catch you later.” I got in my brother’s car and before I knew it, I was on 6^th street. “What are we doing here?” I calmly ask Daxon. “Picking up my girl from this bar. I told you that on the way down here,” he said. I need to stop drinking. I looked around and noticed some food trucks down the street. “Bet, well you get her, I am going to grab some food.” The first food truck served typical fast food; burgers, fried food, and patty melts, while the other food truck served Mexican food.  With no hesitation I walked up to the Mexican truck and ordered shredded chicken tacos. How else to start the year. The tacos were a decent size and I was amazed with how fast they came out. I took a Texas sized bite and the flavorful chicken, lettuce, queso fresco, and avocado brought a smile to my face. “You sure look happy. What did you get?” a woman asked. “Shredded chicken tacos,” I replied. “You can’t go wrong with tacos to bring in the New Year.” I watched as her eyes lit up as if she had an epiphany. “You’re so right!” She got out of the burger line, ordered at the taco truck and then approached me. She had long dark hair, drunken green eyes with specs of gold, and a fair face with a bruise on her cheekbone that she tried to conceal with make-up. Another bruise on her forearm. She wore all white from her deep cut blouse, that didn’t leave much for imagination, to her ripped white pants and matching shoes. “I like your hair,” she said with a curious smile. She’s going to touch your hair. Direct her attention elsewhere. “Thank you, I like your eyes. They are the same color as my necklace,” I said while holding my pendant by my thumb. Her eyes averted from my hair and she marveled at my half piece pendant. She grabbed her food and then returned to where I was sitting and sat next to me. “So what did you do tonight, Mr. Smooth talker?”

For as slow as my night had been, she could not help but laugh at some of the detail. Then again, the group of people eves dropping on our conversation also shared laughs. “Get in the fucking cab!” a voice yelled at from behind me. I turned around and saw a man hastily approaching. “I’m sorry,” she whispered to me. The woman stood up and the guy grabbed her arm recklessly. I see now, why you have bruises. The food plate in her hand splattered on her blouse as he pushed her towards the cab. But….. I can’t be your hero. I stood up and walked back to Dax’s car without looking back.

“That guy in the club probably spent $200 on drinks for us tonight and none of us went home with him,” one of the girls laughed in the back of the car. “Straight up finesse,” another added. The girls laughed the whole ride back to the domain, and I couldn’t blame them. They caught him slipping. “Later,” I said to Dax as I got out the car and headed inside Glasco’s apartment complex.

Glasco was laying down on his bed when I walked in his room and Yoshi was on the floor.

“What happened to your girl, Unicorn dick?” I asked him. “Women just give me those names, you can imagine why. Unicorn dick. Cockannosaurus. So don’t hoe me………… Both girls went home with that other guy,” he said in a deflated tone. “But I can ask you the same question. What happened to you and the girl in the red dress?” My eyes opened wide as I pictured her face. I didn’t even ask for her number. “I barely even remember what we talked about. How long was I talking to her?” Glasco shook his head in disappointment. “Nigga almost the entire party. Well for the time you were there. I should have took her from you if you were just gonna blow it. Whatever, I’d be damned if I didn’t get ass on New Years,” he said while scrolling through his phone contacts. “Okay, I’m going to see what your neighbors are up to. Sounds like an after party.”

As soon as I knock, the door swings open and a woman cheerfully greets me. “Why hello there,” she says with a smile that reminded me of my own teeth. She was no taller than 5’5” with glossy brown hair and had grey-ish blue eyes that were interesting enough. “Hi, my name is Kerrington and I am staying next door. It sounds like a good time over here,” I said with a similar smile. “It is a good time, come in!” she says ecstatically. Immediately she opens the fridge and thrusts an unopened bottle of champagne in my hands. Turn up then. Walking through the apartment, I notice a couple on the couch making out, one girl laying on the bed talking on the phone and an older man in the kitchen. Her boyfriend?

“You’re looking pretty fly. What did you get into tonight?” she asks as her eyes search me. “I was doing me tonight, going with the flow,” I respond and then undress her with my own eyes. “Oh yeah? I can tell by your style and the snapchat sunglasses,” she said curiously. I laugh at the comment I hear too often. “Snapchat stole my swag,” her eyes scanned my body once again. “You should let me take pictures of you,” she told me. “Well aren’t you fast?” I teased her. She laughed and said “Seriously, you look photogenic.” “Alright, I need some Instagram pics,” I said and handed her my phone.

She stood on a chair and started to take photos. “This feels like a photo-shoot,” I tell her. “Yeah don’t be shy, work it,” I started to loosen up and the next thing I know, I have over 20 photos on my phone.

The older guy started ranting about how he is too old to use social media. “How old are you?” I ask him. “I’m 35,” he responds. “Woah, your boyfriends a Iot older than you,“ I joke with the girl.  She looks at me in disbelief, “Oh, he isn’t my boyfriend. I just met him tonight. And I am 26, so I guess there is a bit of difference.” Age aint nothing but a number.  I took a deep pull of the champagne and we continued to talk about our nights and music until I got tired. “It was nice to meet you all, I’m going to head out now,” I tell the group in the apartment. “Thanks for hanging out. You should come back tomorrow morning, and we can drink more champagne!” The woman tells me on my way out. I don’t think I can drink anymore for a long time.

At Glasco’s apartment door, I notice an older woman walking up behind me. “Hello,” I say while opening the door for her. Her black dress was skin tight and there was only one thing on her mind at 4:00 am. You must be the booty call. “Hello there,” she says nervously. Glasco came out of his room shirt off and in compression shorts. The woman apparently knew the drill, and walked into his room while he grabbed her ass. Alright go ahead and say something funny Glasco. “Coffee tomorrow,” Glasco tells me to my surprise. “What?” I respond. “Tomorrow, we get coffee and get to work. Enough play for one night.” I lay down on the couch and think about how this day went. The sound of the headboard banging was rapid but eventually my eyes stayed close and dozed off.

“Let’s get some Ihop and coffee,” Glasco said as he woke me up on the couch. Somehow I woke up without a hangover and proceeded to change clothes. When we arrived at Ihop, I accidentally parked my car in two spots. “That is the worse parking job I have ever seen. You just don’t give a fuck,” Glasco says while laughing at me. “Not really, shit happens,” I respond as we head inside. “So what is up with your baby momma?” I ask him after we order our food. “Courts right now man. Courts and child support,” he responds with his head up. “That’s rough man,” I tell him. A child would fuck up my life so hard. Only I have that right. “I always think that things would be so much easier, if both parents worked together and just focused on the kid, ya know? Set aside whatever beef and help each other out as the kid grows up,” he began to shake his head at me and then said, “That’s a sweet dream, but it rarely ever works out like that I’ve learned. We’ve both tried, I even bought a ring thinking I was going to settle down and marry her. Ya know, be the standup father-husband and grow together. But I hate to be controlled. She hated my ambitions, and we fell apart faster than we got together.” What do I even say to all that? “That’s rough man, I’m sorry,” was the only thing I could manage to say. “Nah, I don’t need pity. This whole ordeal has made me stronger, smarter. She was smarter than me, knew the court system, how to manipulate this whole situation in her favor. I underestimated her, but never again. That’s why I have been picking up book after book after book. I will be better. Another reason why I want to get into blogging, I have made all of the mistakes. I want to educate people so they don’t do the same things I did in life.” He pulled out his laptop and began to work on his trading. “Well, if you grind, then I will do the same,” I told him as I pulled out my notebook. Glasco examined my writing process and said, “That’s it? I expected a creative person do have all these rituals before they put pen to paper.” “Nope,” I respond. “I just have to actually sit down and do it before I get distracted.”

Editor: Amanda Greigo

Featured Guest: Glasco Martin IV

Written by: Kerrington

Spotify Playlist: Girls Born in The 90’s

Title Namesake: Girls Born in The 90’s

Part 1 of the story: Session: Baptized In Fire

March 29, 2017April 1, 2017 by Kerrington Categories: Session Leave a comment

Session: Baptized In Fire

Arriving at the Domain, I park my car on the street and walk into the Yard House for a drink. It’s been a while since I’ve been at the Domain, everything is upscale and there are a ton of people out here. I can get used to this. I spot Glasco walking in about six feet tall maybe, 230lbs, Mohawk haircut, and the grin of somebody out to prove something. “Let’s get out of here, I’m too underdressed for this spot,” he tells me in his Baylor athletic gear. I look around and see the waiters in dress attire and even the waitress was dressed to impress. “Alright I got you,” I said while laughing and proceeded to down my drink. Walking around the Domain with its open areas, fancy buildings, dogs, and beautiful women fueled my adrenaline rush. “This feels like an adult play pen,” I told Glasco in excitement. “Basically,” he responded with a smirk. “So many fine women out here and they all love a young nigga with a Mohawk.” I can’t control my laughter. “Do they now? How do you pace yourself?” I ask playfully as we walk into The Culinary Dropout and order drinks at the bar. “I pull and I pull well,” he continues. “But I could be pulling more. Anyway, catch me up. I have not seen you since like 2011.”

“Alright, you are basically the Goku to my Vegata, my arch rival,” Glasco says as we walk towards his apartment. “Damn, I’m already making rivals?” I reply with a skeptical look. “You have so much talent and it’s all natural. Completely unrefined, whereas I have had to bust my ass all my life. I hate people like you,” he says tongue in cheek. “Well, you’re not all wrong but I would say I half assed most of my life,” I say with a wide smirk. “Since I have half assed everything, imagine what I will do when I actually go all out and devote myself,” Glasco’s eyes beamed open. “That’s exactly what I was about to say! Okay, I think we are on the same page.” “We should learn from each other, ya know? I’m a free spirited dreamer. I can be creative and pretty abstract when I want to be but I lack proper focus and get bored easily. Whereas you are extremely driven and dedicated, but lack imagination and creative stimulation.” I tell him confidently. “Well shit, you made me a believer. So you are saying…”, he pauses to analyze my assessment. “ We are ying and yang?” “No ,no, Goku and Vegata!” I interrupt, leading to a shared laughter.

As I walked into Glasco’s apartment a very large and fluffy dog approached me. “This must be Yoshi!” I say while petting his fluffy head.

“Yeah that’s him. Let me get changed and then we can roll out.” On the balcony was another guy on a laptop, smoking weed out of a pipe. “What’s up?” I ask him as I step on the balcony. The view was beautiful on this sunny day and I could see a large amount of the Domain. “Forex trading,” he responds. “My name is Led.” Led had shaggy dark hair, a dirty stache and couldn’t have been more than 20 years old. “Nice to meet you. You know my brother Dax?” I ask. “Yeah, that’s your brother? I fuck with Dax heavy,” he responds. Glasco comes out of his room wearing black pants even skinnier than mine, a black shirt with holes in it like the ones Kanye West rips, a black dad hat that read “Yeezus” and a flashy leopard print suit jacket. That jacket is my life! “That fucking jacket is so live. My heart is beating out of my chest,” I tell him as excitement rushed through my body. “Kerrington, what the fuck are you talking about? Come on, let me show you how Yoshi gets da bitches and then we can get stuff for tonight.”

Glasco was not lying about his dog Yoshi, we barely made it out of the apartment before women approached.

“YOUR DOG IS SO CUTE! What type of dog is he? He is so fluffy,” they ask. By the time we made it to my car, I counted 17 girls had stopped us to check Yoshi out. “This jacket is too hot,” Glasco bitched while Yoshi dragged him to the dog park. “Let me rock it,” I tell him. “You just want to be me don’t you?” he responds while handing me jacket. It fit me perfectly. “Maybe. Fair warning though, I think it looks better on me than you!” he laughs at my remark. After letting Yoshi play with another dog for a while, we get in my car and head to HEB.

Achoo! Gnarrrr! Swish! Hughhh! Glasco’s allergies hit him hard. “You alright?” I ask him after the noises continue. “ Shit week for allergies, but yeah I’m fine,” he tells me as another round of allergies kicked in. I couldn’t take the noises anymore and we rush inside the HEB. “Alright let’s get Claritin and champagne. The essentials for any new year’s party,” I joke with him. Waiting in the champagne tasting line, I noticed he grabbed the kid’s Claritin and told him he should probably take two instead of just one pill. He ponders at the box and then pops four. All I can do is laugh at him taking way more than he should. “That’s an awesome looking Jacket you’re wearing,” the lady serving champagne, tells me. “Oh my God!” Glasco says in disbelief. “Thank you, look good feel good, ya know?” I tell the serving lady. With a smile, she asks for my ID before she can give me champagne. “How old do I look?” I ask her while handing my ID. “Ummm about 18 or 19,” she says before realizing I’m 24. “Oh wow I was off.” She retracts and hands us both a taster for champagne. “Guess you look old as fuck Glasco. She didn’t even bother with you,” I chastise him. She was super quick to apologize, not knowing I was only playing. “Whatever, I’m going to get some crown, you get the champagne and coke and I’ll meet you at the car,” Glasco says as he walked out.

I picked up two bottles of champagne and headed towards my car. “Sexy jacket,” a woman says as she passes by me. “Thank you,” I replied while I looked at Glasco who was shaking his head. “Alright, give me my shit back. I’m the unicorn and you’re done jacking my swag,” Glasco tells me as he gets into the car. Unicorn? “Sorry man, I make unicorns look like show ponies.” I laughed. “Your dog is so cute!” A lady in the car parked next to me shouts out the window.

“What kind of dog is he?” “His name is Yoshi and he is an Akita,” I tell her with a smile as I get into my car. I could see Glasco rolling his eyes through my peripherals. “Alright, so there’s indeed a party we can go to, or we can roll downtown, or hit the domain tonight.” Glasco sneezed out. “I’m going with the flow man, but I’m all about house parties,” I reply to him. “Bet, lets hit up your brother and we can roll out later tonight.”

“Don’t let me drink alone Glasco,” I say to him as he tries to run away from the shot of vodka. ”I really don’t want to, but I won’t leave you behind,” Glasco responds. We drink the shot with instant regret and I manage to keep my gag reflex down. I decide to switch it up, and we pour up the crown and coke. “Alright peep game,” Glasco said while popping more Claritin and chasing it down with crown, “I’ll let you rock the maroon jacket and the rose gold time piece. Just return it and I don’t mean “black people” return it 2 weeks later. You, your brother and me dressed in black with color jackets. This is not for the fan of Elvis.” I could hardly stop laughing or better yet argue. As we poured more crown, Led and another guy walk into the apartment. He can’t be older than 18.

The young kid pulls out his grinder, loads the water bong and passed me the greens. I’m almost at my level… A little bit wouldn’t hurt. As the flame from the lighter kissed the weed, my legs began to tingle. “Keep up Kerrington!” Glasco orders while filling my cup with more crown and coke. Before I knew it, the bottle of Crown Royal was almost empty and I was definitely feeling good. The three of them continued to talk about forex trading, which was way over my head. I’m too drunk to understand what they’re talking about. Led handed me the bong again, with another freshly loaded bowl and I continued to indulge myself. Walking into the bathroom, I changed into my black button down and put on my sharpest shoes. The rose gold watch was a nice addition and the red jacket gave my look a nice flair. I picked my afro and shaped it before heading back out to the living room.

My brother arrives and we exchanged pleasantries. “Kerrington is the slowest drinker,” Glasco states. I grabbed my cup and downed the practically full cup of crown and coke. “Let’s finish the bottle then!” I demanded. My famous last words. Maybe I should slow it down. Glasco refills both of our cups, emptying the bottle of crown, and I chug the half cup down without any mixer and dust my shoulder off. “One more before we hit for the road?” Led asks me with the bong in his hand. “Fuck it,” I say and light the greens. A small hit so that I could function, yet everything turned black.

Where are we? The only question I could ask myself when my eyes opened. With blurred vision I realize that I am in the back seat of my brother’s car. My phone read 8:30 PM as Dax parked the car outside the house where the party was at. I feel it coming. “Alright leggo!” Glasco says with excitement. “You guys go on, I’ll be there in a minute,” I say desperately from the back seat. “ Oh my God. Kerrington get your ass up!” He demands from the outside the car. “Go on, I’m not going to make it,” I manage to say as the world is turning upside down. The spins!!….you’re dying Khill. Where is your resolve? Dax looks at me skeptically. “I guess we will crack the windows down for you. Later.” “Lil bitch!” Glasco adds as they both walk towards the house.

While both of them are out of sight, I search for my resolve. You talk big game, get out of the fucking car and back it up! With all my effort, I finally place my hand on the door handle. On three open the door. ONE! My eyes try to focus on the handle to slow the spinning. TWO! My fingers pull on the handle. THREE! I push the door open and vomit spews from my mouth onto the asphalt. I shut the door, close my eyes, and lean my body back into the seat.

Phone home to the moon, did you change your number? If and when you get this message, need you back home. KHill, KHill, KHill, KHill-back home KHill, we need you, come home-back home KHill, KHill, shit’s fucked, come home. As I opened my eyes, I realized I dozed off, but for how long. I picked up my phone. 11:55PM!?!?!? Wait the party! Fuck! I grabbed my bottle of champagne and burst out the car, passing my brother who was on a longboard, I head inside the house party.

PART 2 SESSION: Girls Born in the 90’s

Editor: Amanda Greigo

Featured Guest: Glasco Martin IV

Written by: Kerrington

Spotify Playlist: Baptized in Fire

March 28, 2017April 1, 2017 by Kerrington Categories: SessionTags: feature Leave a comment

Session: The Zone with a Tiger

“Does anyone smell that? I think there is a fire.” I ask my friends at the drinking table. “That is the smell of my victory. Now drink up, spit your five and stop stalling.” My homie, David responds with an arrogant smile. Truth be told, it has been a long Saturday and I have lost every single game of snappa. Before I know it, mid-day has passed and the long cool breeze of the night has kicked in. The dice at the bottom of my glass stares at me, its ominous five smiling back. Fuck me. “Boom, Bitch!” David yells as the five rears its ugly head once again, spat on the table by yours truly. “Really though, am I the only one that smells something burning?” I ask again while I make another full beer disappear. When Matt looks over the rail, he says,  “Oh shit! It’s coming from below us in the parking garage! I’ll call it in, let’s go check it out.”

As we begin to turn the corner to the parking garage, I can feel the heat licking my face. We find a dumpster, a large dumpster, completely ablaze, the flames well over six feet tall. “Think management will get off your back since we are first on the scene?” I ask Nick. “I doubt it! If anything they will assume we started it,” he responds while we snapchat the incident. Fire trucks arrive shortly after we do to put out the fire. Never having been this close to a raging inferno, I stand, mesmerized by the fire hose forcefully shutting down the flames. Eventually, the dumpster becomes a giant bucket of ashy trash and muddy water. I walk up to the fireman and ask if he will take a picture with me. “Why? So you can put it on your Instagram and show how cool you are?” he sharply responds to my request. Well if you want to be a dick about it. “I wanted to show off the charming firefighters valiantly putting out dumpster fires.” I say with a smirk. “Get out of here, now!”

Back at the apartment, my brain drunkenly dials in on the search for food. I decide, leftover chips and salsa from earlier, this will do. When I try to open the salsa, the container slips out of my fingers and starts its collision course with the ground, in slow motion. Damn, I dropped something again. I’ve done this SO many times. I know, I know, I’m going to get a lot of shit for this. Man, I need a moment, I need to chew it over with Twix. Immediately, Britt looks at me and begins to shake his head. “Butterfingers! You have got to be kidding me. Every other day, I swear. The hookah, cups full of vodka, and who knows how many beers you have dropped.” “Not to mention all the dice you dropped today,” David adds with a laugh. The pile on was completed when Nick says, “Don’t forget you dropped the guitar in the bathroom too!” Stay calm. The anger flows through my body like a rushing river and finally the dam breaks. “Fuck all of y’all!” bursts from my mouth in rage. “Britt loses something every 10 minutes and nobody gives him shit. David I don’t even know why your bitch ass is talking. You broke the bong and both mirrors within the same week!” “Well you were the instigator when I broke the mirrors so it’s your fault, really,” David responds. I am fuming at this point. “This is ridiculous! If anyone has a problem, step up and whoop me!” I roar like the Leo I am. “Fighting over salsa is ridiculous,” Britt adds, trying to defuse the situation. “If it was queso you spilled, then it would be a different story.” The room bursts into uncontrollable laughter. Fuck every single one of you. I wave the white flag with my middle finger and the lion storms out the door with his tail between his legs.

Listening to music on the drive home calmed my nerves and I was regaining my composure. The Weekend, hitting notes on The Zone and The Birds, regulated me all the way from 10 back down to about a 5. Never get too high, never get too low. However, at the intersection a block away from my apartment, a police car lights up to brighten my day. Fuuuck, the first time I have ever been pulled over – this is going to ruin my life. “Is there a problem officer?” I ask as the black cop approaches my window. You are supposed to be on my side. You also look familiar. “Have you been drinking tonight?” All day nigga. “No… I was hours ago.” I glance at my clock and see 3:00 am. Holy shit time flew by! “Sir, I need you to step out of the car.” My heart dropped to the floor and it was at this moment I knew I was experiencing the, “Oh shit” moment to all oh shit moments. Time slowed down as I made the walk of shame to the back of my car. Ice-cold fear creeps from my toes to my knees and all the way up my chest, chilling my body, shivering, a nervous shake. Yet, before it crawled into to my head, I reached in my pocket and looked at the tiger on my phone, staring into my soul. Richard Parker. Shit is hitting the fan and we must prevail. Let the losers worry about losing. As I slide the phone back into my pocket, a different man, yet the same beast, I round the corner of my car. The cop might have thought my breath smelled of alcohol, but it was pure adrenaline he smelled. The cop might have thought drinking gave me an awkward stride, but it was nothing but swagger in my step.

The cop was waiting for me and his partner stood to the side watching me closely. As the cold breeze caresses my neck in the dark of the night, illuminated by Walgreens signs and the street posts, I never thought the showdown could get tenser. The officer walks up to me and sizes me up. “I am going to lead you through a series of tests. First, stand with your feet together, close your eyes, put your head back, and count to 30.” “Okay, I understand,” I reply. As I close my eyes, my head fills with darkness and I imagine each number being spelled. “One, two, three, four, five…”What is the point of this? “….twenty-nine, thirty,” I finished with a smile and open my eyes. The partner looked unimpressed as he twiddled his thumbs. So easy. I got this in the bag. Wait, focus, they want you to fail. The officer approaches me again, this time with a sly smile as if he’s got something up his sleeve. “Your are gonna need to walk in a straight line, stepping with one foot in front of the other. After ten steps, you will turn, and repeat the procedure back to your original starting point.” Each step was surprisingly easier than the one before. Looking down at my red vans, I’m reminded of the time I spilled bleach on my right shoe, staining it. Yet, it gave the shoes more character and life. I love these kicks. When I returned to my original position, the partner, fucking Robin, gave Batcop a shoulder shrug in disbelief. Was I driving that bad? No doubt I should not have been driving, but I was driving slow, homie. The cop approached me once again, this time carrying a pen with a light on the end. “Follow the light with your eyes, without moving your head.” “Okay, I understand.” This test was easy enough. Left to right, right to left, up and then down, down and up, then a repeat cycle. My only worry was going cross eyed and freaking out when the light moved across the bridge of my nose. The officer sized me up one last time. “Okay, you passed. Barely.” Hater, you know I aced that shit. “You know who you remind me of? Anthony Anderson!” I say, “Just not funny.” And 40 pounds heavier. I was able to hide my enjoyment of the joke, however, his partner, who showed no emotion through the field tests’, cracks up at his fellow officer. “Get out of here, now!” Not the first time I’ve heard that tonight.

At 3:20 am I make it home. Flicking the lights to the kitchen on, I can finally take a deep breath. I pull out my phone and give thanks to my tiger after a job well done. It was at this time that I have my moment of clarity. I let my anger get the best of me. Getting so pissed off clouded my judgement. Not only did I yell at my friends, I decided to drive home drunk. Okay, from now on, I will not let myself get mad anymore. Ever. Oh ya, and I am hungry.

I put two hot dogs in a cup of water and place them in the microwave. I thought about grilling them on the George Foreman or putting them in the oven but, nobody got time for that. The beeping from the microwave goes off and my roommate’s door opens. The drunken steps get louder as the stranger approaches and the light from the kitchen reveals a familiar face. Yet, I am unable to recall her name as I size her up. Heavy Makeup smeared after a night of bar hopping on Sixth Street. Blonde hair drastically ruffled, slightly flushed face, smirking her smile and a dimly lit glowing aura. I don’t even have to ask, but why are you here? “Would you like some water?” I ask her while eating my hot dog. She sizes me up with her eyes. “Really? Eating a hot dog at this time,” she sassily remarks. “I could ask you the same thing.” I can hear my roommate’s unmistakable laugh from his room. The slight flush in her face amplifies into an overgrown cherry on the verge of exploding. “I would like some water, thank you.” I hand her a bottle of water and head to my room.

Moonlight creeps through the windows and provides a clear path to my bed. My room is surprisingly cold, making the thought of covers sound so sweet. I waste no time getting in bed. Falling face first into my mattress has never felt better. As I pull up my Baltimore Ravens blanket, my body sinks in while my mind decompresses. Turning over on my back, my eyes close and I contemplate the type of day tomorrow will bring. The thought of having a great day after my recent adventures brings great comfort to me. The door to my room slowly creaks open and a toddler crawls towards my bed. Suddenly, I am on my feet reaching down to pick up this baby boy. The caramel colored skin of the baby is soft to touch and his eyes resemble a single sunflower in a field of green grass. Lady Killer eyes. His curious hands navigate over my face, examining my nose, my full lips, and my dimples. When his curiosity reaches my ears, I begin to giggle as he rounds my earlobe. The sharp pain and blood flowing from my split earlobe brings me to panic and I forget I was holding a child. When the baby hits the floor head first, screams can be heard all throughout the apartment.

I wake up in a cold sweat immediately removing my stud earrings. That was pretty gnarly. At least I don’t have a damn kid. The thought of not having a child at this stage of my life always brings a smile to my face. As the sun begins to rise, I remind myself that today is going to be a great day. Okay, yesterday is over and done with. You are going to teach a swim lesson, and with that $100 you will get an X-game ticket and hang out with your friends all day. Holy shit! Not to mention Game of Thrones Watchers on The Wall episode is tonight. Jon Snow is going to do Jon Snow things. Safe call to mark today as one of the top ten days of my life. Hopping out of bed with a smile on my face, I look in my closet for a suit to wear. I pick out my black and pink chubbies with a floral design pattern and a white tank top. After my usual hygiene routine, I hop into my car and head to the nearest Taco Cabana. No better way to start today than with breakfast tacos and orange juice.

“Okay, this time when you go in for your flip turn, try to tuck your head.” I tell the two kids in the pool with me. Early morning is always the best time to teach swim lessons. The kids are usually attentive, the Texas heat is not a problem yet, and you have the rest of the day to do what you want. “How was that one?” one of the kids asked. “Was that one better?” “It was! Nicely done. Try to not forget what we worked on today.” I reply with a smile. The kid smiles in return and I notice a large green and translucent white booger inching out of his nose. Before I can tell him about it, he slurps it down to his mouth, and swallows it, like spaghetti. Holy moly. Any other day I would let my gag reflexes get the best of me, but not today! Today is going to be too awesome for you to get the best of me.

When I arrive back home, I call Britt and my friends to apologize for freaking on them and to let them know how the rest of my night went. “All good man. Glad to hear you are done baby raging. Hurry up and get back over here, we are leaving for the X-Games in an hour or so,” Britt tells me before the call ends. After showering, I search my closet again for clothes to wear on this perfect day. Everything is going according to plan. I decide to go with baby blue shorts and a dark blue Wu-Tang Clan shirt that I took a liking to. The infamous symbol of Wu was cleverly displayed in a batman flood-light style over the city skyline. Wu-Tang Clan ain’t nothing to fuck with.

Arriving at Britt’s apartment provided an odd feeling considering what happened the night before. The dumpster was still full of water and floating trash, and the heat sensation had been replaced by a foul, nostril burning odor. When I walk through the door, we make a few jokes about the night before. I will not lie, it is a good feeling to be able to laugh about that type of stuff instead of holding grudges. “We were thinking about getting you football gloves to help with your dropping problem,” Nick says as he turns on super smash bros. It felt good to win a few games after taking so many losses last night. “Next thing I drop is probably going to be you,” I told my friends, trash talking my way to victory. Talking shit is one of my fortes. Getting into your opponents head gives you the mental advantage, though I use it to hype myself up, too. Putting pressure on myself to perform and then backing up my talk gives me a rush. “Who’s next?”

“We will leave when Ben gets here,” Britt declares as he poured me three shots of vodka. “Why am I taking three by myself?” I reply. “Because you always show up sober where as everyone else has been drinking for a while.” My liver and I want to see twenty -two. “And because you were a little bitch last night.” I nearly spit the vodka out trying to hold back from laughing. “Fair enough. Are you sure that I can buy a ticket at the gate?” I question Britt as he pours another shot for me and one for himself. That’s a quick four for me. “I don’t want to look like a dumbass waiting outside the grounds all day.” “Yeah yeah,” Britt replies, “you can purchase at the gate. They’re like $60.”

Ben bounces into the room dancing and we get ready to go. “Wooooo!” he screams making his presence known. Since he was our designated driver, I was free to keep on with the keep on. I grabbed a bottle of Deep Eddy Cranberry vodka on the way out for the 30 minute drive to The Circuit of The Americas. I knew that a girl I liked named Zoe would be at the games today, but I was not sure how to make a move. Maybe the answer is at the bottom of the bottle. I take a pull and pass it to Nick. Nope, shit out of luck. Just a tough drink to take a pull from. Opening up our text thread, I watch the video she sent me yesterday of her smoking in the car. Not many people can make smoking look cool, but she does. Still, nothing inspirational comes to my mind and I go on without texting her.

Several pulls of the bottle later, we arrive at the X-games. When I get out of the car, the booze is in full effect and I am in my zone. My tolerance had more than tripled in the few weeks of hanging out with my friends. However, I am still far from their level. If they were first team, all-pro drinking fanatics, then I was a rookie in the game making a name for himself. Number one draft pick, though!

Walking to the entrance gave me chills as I soaked in the sunlight. The day was beautiful, bright and sunny with a nice breeze that agreed with my face. There is something about large groups of people gathering to watch events that makes me happy. Maybe it’s the atmosphere, celebrities putting on a show for the crowd, or the smell of delicious food being cooked and readily available. What is that aroma? Instantly, I was drawn towards a security guard sitting down at a non-entrance gate. In his hand was a freshly made, hot chocolate chip cookie. That sweet smell fills my nostrils and I begin to feel a great sense of comfort, energy and ecstasy. Like the first time you kiss a girl that you admire. Sweet, where can I find those? Watching the guard, with his unimpressive beard, drop the cookie on his pants blew my mind. Idiot! As he stands up, my adrenaline takes over, and I knew bold moves were about to be made. “Damn it!” he complains. Turning around, he walks through the open gate and heads left towards the bathroom. Not noticing the lion that saw his opportunity, took it without thinking, and trailed him closely, step for step. Well then, my day just got better. Now I have $100 to buy all the food and beer I want.

Inside the grounds, the place is packed with people walking all around. I decide to walk parallel to my friends and watch them till they discover I’m missing. After about three minutes, I can see the gears turning in Nick’s head as he looks around for me. “Wait, where did he go?” Nick asks the group. “I could have sworn he was just right next to me.” “YOOO,” I reply from the other side of the fence. When they get through security, and the main entrance, my friends laugh as I tell them how I got into the X-games.

As we make our way to the street skate park, random people are shouting out my Wu-Tang shirt. “Wu-Tang Clan ain’t nothing to fuck with!” some girl yells out as she flashes her Wu-Tang tattoo on her forearm. The arena stands are packed with spectators on both sides, so we decide to watch the exhibition from the ground level next to the jumbotron.  I had no problem with this because we were next to the concessions and still very close to the action. I helped myself to the gyro station where a friendly woman made my sandwich. “I’ll have whatever you recommend.” I told the lady behind mounds of freshly cut meat and vegetables. The gyro was filled with savory lamb, fresh tomatoes and onions, and bacon. Topped with what she called Tzatziki sauce, and then wrapped in a warm pita. The gyro was so good that I went back for another and then to another stand to buy some beer. $7 for a Dos Equis. Ass holes. “Hey man, I love your shirt!” the man behind the counter tells me. “I’ll give you 5 Dos Equis for it.” Then get kicked out of the x-games for not wearing a shirt. “No thanks bro,” I respond as I pay for my beers and then walk back to my friends.

This was my first time watching professional skateboarding and it was a lot more exciting than I imagined. I recognized Ryan Sheckler as that kid who was a superstar when I was in 7^th grade, the other names not so much. However, a skater named Nyjah Huston was killing the competition every time he stepped up for a run and the crowd clapped furiously at his tricks. Okay, there’s a distinctive aroma. A group of guys a few from us were smoking inside of the grounds. How bold. Before they knew it, I charmed my way into rotation. As I exhale, the euphoric sensation brings a tingle to my finger tips and I learned the guys went to my rival high school back home. I’m cross faded but definitely in my zone right now.

Nyjah Huston puts on a show in his final run and eases his way to a first place finish. “Pretty sick huh?” Britt asks me as we walk to the barricaded red carpet packed with fans. “I’m pretty fucked up,” I respond in a jolly manner. “Let’s try to get Nyjah’s Autograph!”

We make our way to the front of the barricade where we can clearly see the red carpet. The carpet led to an exclusive VIP area, which served as an entrance to the athlete staging rooms. “If Nyjah comes out, I’ll probably run over these little kids to get an autograph,” I joke around with the girl in front of me. An ESPN film crew weaves through the crowd like a snake and parts the barricade in front of me before walking single file down the red carpet. I already know the answer to this question, you enabler you. Turning to Britt I ask him,” Should I do it?” “Absolutely,” he responds before I even finish my question. I see a group of medical staffers in white weaving through the crowd coming my way. I pull out my phone and admire the Tiger on my phone. Richard Parker. I ain’t gotta do it, but fuck, somebody’s got to. Not like we have anything better to do. The adrenaline returns to pat me on the back once again. However, the combination of my prior indulgencies raises me to a higher state. Not only is time slowing down around me, the noise of the crowd is rapidly reducing. At first, I hear the full sound of the spectators, then a dull noise, followed by the sound of my breathing and heart beating, until there is complete silence. As the medical staff passes, the lion matches foot step for foot step, easily blending in as we make our way down the carpet. I’m in.

Standing in the area with only a few people who have VIP credentials or special passes made me stand out. Without even a regular admission pass, I am overjoyed to have made it this far. Poker face. Just relax and don’t do anything dumb. I look at the large crowd of people in front of me and see my friends towering above everyone in the middle. I can’t help but flash a subtle smile. Suddenly, the crowd becomes excited and judging by their faces, people are screaming in joy. I turn around to see what the commotion is about. Ryan Sheckler made his way out of the athlete room and is walking towards me. “Nice runs out there Ryan,” I say, blending in, as I put my hand out for a handshake. “Jeah bro, Austin is fun to shred,” he responds with his Southern Californian accent. He shakes my hand. The accent caught me off guard and I try to not laugh in his face. “Lets grab a photo.” “Jeah, I got you. Wu-Tang Clan ain’t nothing to fuck with,” Little did I know, everybody was already taking pictures of the two of us talking, thinking I was one of the athletes. Mission accomplished. I look over at Britt, along with the rest of my friends, on the other side of the fence, again, and they are dying laughing. They are taking photos of people taking photos of me. Reality sets back in; I notice the sounds of cameras flashing and a growing noise from the crowd.

I waited for Nyjah to come out but he never did. Ryan stayed to sign autographs for a while before going up the red carpet to another exclusive room. Nick calls to tell me that they are ready to head back to campus and I look around for an exit. Phone is about to die. Guess I have to go up the carpet. After my first step on the carpet, a girl grabs my hand and asks for a picture. After her, a little boy asks me to sign his baseball cap. “Take a picture with my son!” a father yells from the crowd and I happily oblige. I can get used to this. Only a matter of time. As I walk farther up the carpet, my hand starts to cramp from signing autographs. “I can’t believe you did that!” a random voice yells from the crowd. I turn and see the girl that I made the joke with earlier in the same spot. Show the Leo some respect. I wave to her goodbye and enter the door at the end. Once inside, I grab a water bottle from the massive spread they have for the athletes before finding an exit back to the arena.

“Holy shit!” Nick says when I catch up with the crew. “I know my friend, I know. I had to sign autographs after you guys left too,” I said with a big laugh. “So what are we going to do for Game of Thrones?” “Let’s go to the lake house to watch it.” I text Zoe the picture of Ryan Sheckler and I on the drive back home. “WHAT!! You were there to!? I think I saw you! Why didn’t we meet up?” she responds. My nerves I guess. Before I can ask her to come to the lake house with my phone dies. No. Just no.

When we arrive at the house it is already dark outside. The moonlight dances like magic on the lake water as the small docile waves carry on. The home is beautifully built with a delicate and elaborate brick pattern, blue roofs, and an elegantly carved wooden door. The father of our friend who lives at the lake house is pretty intimidating even as he solitarily sits playing with his Doberman puppy. Within the dimly lit theater room is a high definition projector and rows of reclining seats. The projector shows a massive image that covers the entire wall in front of us. This is definitely where I parked my car. “Why are you so hyped up for this episode?” Britt asks me. “Jon Snow is about to go off and it’s going to be awesome.” I emphatically respond. “Okay we get it. You have a hard on for Jon Snow, give it a rest already it’s about to start.”

My excitement can barely be contained from the back seat of the car as Ben drives us home. I turn my phone on after charging it at the lake house and take another pull of Deep Eddy Vodka. My day has gone so well that I decide to ask Zoe and her friends to come hot tub with me & the crew. “Aw, we are too tired from the X-games. Maybe next time,” she responds with a smiley face. “Well, she shot me down boys!” Again. My friends erupt in laughter. “Yo, don’t flip out like you did last night!” spews Nick. “Are you going to keep partying tonight or are you headed home?” Britt asks me as I sense another pile on coming. The day has been too good to me. “I’ll keep going, but I think I will crash at your place this time.

Editor: Amanda Griego

Vice Editor: Brittain Dalby

Creative Score: Brittain Dalby

Thanks for reading! For more content on this chapter check out Behind the Madness: X-Games Chapter.

Also, please like and subscribe to the blog to stay updated!

November 13, 2015April 1, 2017 by Kerrington Categories: Session Leave a comment

Session: New God Flow

The window breaks and suddenly the bar, fully packed, falls silent. I head outside to find the bouncer running down the culprit. Should I chase after and help? All of the sudden I am sprinting in my skinny jeans trying to cut this person off. “I’m hella out of shape man”, I say to the guy filming me, running next to me with his camera. Picture this: camera guy chasing me, chasing the bouncer, who is chasing this person who broke the bar window. Rounding the corner, I see the bouncer running and finally see the runner a few feet in front of me. Dark hair, tan skin, pretty elegant tattoos…A woman?! – I’m pretty sure she’ll pop me in my face if I grab her, or even worse between my legs. Fuck it. “Let go of me!” she yells as I grab both of her hands. When the bouncer catches up, I release her. He proceeds to cuss her out. “What the fuck is your problem? Those windows had been around since 1866 you sorority bitch! Think you can whip out daddy’s check book at your problems? Fuck you!” Now she is crying her eyes out… I don’t think tears will help you right now. “I’m not some privileged sorority girl and I will pay for everything. I’m sorry! Stop yelling at me” she cries. “I had a bad day. Shit happens!” The crying makes me feel uneasy. I’m just going to dip out now.

“Are you okay? You have blood on your shirt!”  The lady at the front of the bar asks me. I just bought this damn shirt! “She broke the window with her hand, and I got some on me when I grabbed her,” I said.  “You caught her!?” Her eyes opened wide with amazement.  Show the Leo some respect. Walking into the bar I feel eyes on me as they should be. Maybe it is the bloody shirt? Oh-well, I’ll break the ice. “Yeah, I caught her.” I’m catching a few applauds as I walk to where my friends are sitting. One of them kindly washes my shirt in the bathroom while another gives me a shirt to wear. To my surprise, she cleaned all of the blood off like magic. It is 2:00 AM. Hero time is over. People are still looking at me now. I’m kinda ready to go.                  

After I drop my friends off, I head back home. My dumbass thought I could make it back before I filled my car up with gas, but I was wrong. So here I am on the side of the frontage road with my hazard lights on, phoneless, maybe about two hours walking distance from my home. Guess it’s one foot in front of the other. After about 45 minutes of walking, I realize I am going in the wrong direction. Womp. All I can do is look up at the stars, which look amazing tonight. “God I’ve been fucking up lately. Okay, I’ve been fucking up a lot, but I still do good ya know? Now would be a good time, gimmie a sign that I am at least on the right track?” Ironically, I decide to turn around and make that dreaded 45-minute walk back to my car.

I wonder, should I just fall asleep in the car, rest up and make moves in the morning? Or should I wake my mom up and try to get home. I choose the latter and walk to a gas station to use the phone. “What time is it?” I ask the cashier. “It’s 4:20!” He replies with a crooked smile. Woah, his teeth are fucked up. I’m sure there’s a hygiene isle somewhere in here. After my mom says she is on the way, I make way back to my car. I open the trunk and sit in the back and wait. As cars pass by I wonder: if I saw someone stranded on the road, would I help them out? Not at 5 in the morning.

After an hour, I figure my mom must be lost. So I close the trunk and begin to head back to the gas station. Within 20 seconds, I hear the sound of a collision. A dreadful noise that I have heard one time too many. There is no way my car just got hit. No fucking way. I keep on walking to the gas station to use the phone.  “Hey mom, it’s me again. Are you lost?” “I think I am close. What is near you?” she replies. Figures “There’s an HEB across from the shell. I am only a few meters away from it”. I tell her before I head back outside.

As I walk outside I notice that my car is considerably closer to me than it was when I left and the bumper, where I was sitting a few seconds before the accident, is fucked up. So I keep walking down and the car that hit mine is about 30 yards away. Meaning my car launched forward about the length of a swimming pool from where it was. Pretty epic, wonder what it looked like to see a parked car move this far. I should check out the driver. Am I going to see a dead body today? I walk down the road and see debris and window glass on the ground from both cars. The truck that hit me ended up hopping the curb and came to a stop in the grass. The grill of the truck was pushed in, the windshield had been completely shattered and a wheel was hanging on for dear life.

The driver was outside the car and on the phone with somebody. “Are you okay?” I ask him. “FUCK IM GOING TO JAIL. FUCK! WHY WAS YOUR CAR PARKED THERE?” “I ran out of gas,” I respond. Should I be mad at this guy or maybe upset that my car is totaled? Strange I feel so detached from this whole situation.  “The hazard lights were on though”. “I DID NOT SEE IT UNTIL IT WAS TOO LATE” Is he drunk? I am checking out his truck when he approaches me with a sly walk and says “Listen bro, I’m going to be straight up; I don’t have a license” Get the fuck out of here.. “bro”. Just to mess with him, I tell him that someone was bringing me gas shortly and all of this could have been nearly avoided. “FUCK!” he says one last time while kicking a headlight. His relatives show up shortly, an older woman and man, probably his aunt and uncle. Hold up! My mom was already on the way and his’ family showed up first! The woman tells me that she has to go home to get the insurance info and that she will be right back. The driver gets in the car with her and leaves the man to probe me at the crash site. Get up out of my face asking me questions like, “What were you doing tonight? Are you drunk right now? You don’t seem nervous.” Just then a car drives by knocking debris into the air. I shield my face with my hand to block flying glass coming my way while a piece of plastic hits me in the stomach. Fuck today. Yet all I can do is smile as I suck on my finger cut and spit the blood on the grass. At least it’s my blood this time. She comes back without the driver. Well this got illegal pretty fast. “Well you ran out of gas on the road. My insurance will cover our car and if your insurance will cover your car, then we do not need to call the police. He will go to jail if we call the police.” Well, you tried to play the game but you are not that smooth. Pretty poor try actually. Poker face. “Well I don’t want him to go to jail either” Tongue in cheek “My mom will be here soon.” “Who’s your mother?” The star of The Diary of an Angry Black Woman. “Her name is Marilyn.”

My mother arrives at the scene driving her car at a slow pace. “My car is fucked up,” I tell her in a normal voice. “Are you okay? Where’s the driver?” “She took him home,” I say. “WHAT? Why have you not called the police?” “My phone is broken.” The lady walks up to my mom and tries the same reasoning on my mother. To which my mom eloquently responds with “I don’t give a shit, he was hit from behind.” When the police show up, I reflect on what happened. If I didn’t think my mom was lost, I stay in the car and I’m murdered. If I had my phone, I stay in the car to make the call and I’m murdered. If my mom made it before I called and we are putting gas in the car, we both are murdered. The driver was eventually dropped back off at the crash site by somebody and was arrested as soon as he got out of the car.  My mom and the cops said that I was strangely calm when they showed up. I really don’t feel anything. Guess I should be happy I’m alive. Yet, I feel nothing. I would like an orange juice though. “I’ve cheated death five times now that I just kinda swag it out. Leos have 9 lives, but I have 4 lives left now though.” She breaks down crying at the site and I realize that I have yet to sleep at all.

“Guess I am not going to sleep today,” I tell my mother as we get coffee and tacos. She is clearly happy that I did not die on Labor Day because we go get my phone repaired at a local place and head to the apple store and buy a case to protect it. A worker at the repair store walks up without speaking and closes the door. “NERD” my mom says out loud. She’s feelin’ silly. How old are we Marilyn? Haha.

Noticing my mom’s body high, I try to see what types of reactions I can get from her. “You know if I had my phone or believed you didn’t get lost, I stay in the car and it’s game over for me. You are picking up my brains off the pavement instead of picking up a new phone-case.” Graphic. She probably thinks I’m crazy for saying that with a smile. She’s not half wrong. “Oh Lord, you had angels watching over you….I…I can’t even imagine if you were in that car. I would have ran him over in the suburban and declared insane in court.” HA, I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Still, I can’t kill her vibe. She is pretty much beaming with joy around the apple store and then she spontaneously buys herself an apple watch. Damn Marilyn, somebody is feelin’ herself.

 

Editor: Amanda Greigo

Vice Editor: Brittain Dalby

Creative Score: Brittain Dalby

October 20, 2015April 1, 2017 by Kerrington Categories: Session Leave a comment