Creative Peace

Break Through

It was mid January and the trees were naked, the streets had a fresh sheet of snow covering the ground. Droplets of sweat freeze upon my rosy cheeks, as my flesh grasps the outside atmosphere in the pinning cold air. Mother Nature dictates the rhythm of my pulse as the temperature creeps to a bitter arrest of below zero. Energy is no longer existent throughout my blood and veins, but I must stay strong because life is about to change…

My name is Quinton; I used to live on the streets where the definition of life was no longer existent.  I think of the streets as a blood bath because you never know when your time is up. I left my family when I was only nine, pap’s was an alcoholic and my mom…well let’s just say I never knew her. Living on the streets was never easy; sometimes I would find a public bathroom and hide in a stall and sleep there for the night. I only would get about a couple hours of sleep because the feeling of fear would puncture my senses throughout the night.

In the mornings, I would put out a cardboard box and rap to make money. I discovered I was pretty damn good at it because I made about ten bucks an hour. I even wrote my own fucked up life stories to go along with what I rapped about; they all related to the things I endured when I was still naïve.

Me and the guys would take turns watching the place, waiting patiently for the right moment to jack the place up. The icy cold began to stream through my blood and veins and the meaning of warmth was no longer existent. I heard one of the guys yelling outside, “Why the fuck is it so cold?” Xavier was trying to calm J’neal down, but he couldn’t handle the wait any longer. He was always a little strong out.

I later made a liv’n by committing crimes; it was tough, but I had no other choice since I needed the cash. The biggest bank in Brooklyn was down on Fourth Avenue a couple blocks away from where I was staying. It was a three man job, so I called up a couple of guys I knew from the streets, and told them they could earn twenty G’s each if they wanted in.          

My heart began to race as J’neal and Xavier walk towards the bank. I was given a couple seconds before we actually reached the bank. I thought about who I was…was I good...was I a monster or was I just a person with no way to support myself? I couldn’t figure out who I was anymore; my identity faded. As I began to think ahead, I acted quickly. (As he turned to go on, he spat speculatively).We went in the bank, while J’neal was on watch, from the outside Xavier and I would get in and get out. We started to pack up the Benjamin’s and then it happened, one of the guards pulled the alarm. We didn’t get to finish, but it was too late so we got the hell out of there. We ran until we couldn’t hear the sound of sirens any longer. The moment I thought I was safe; I realized it was all over for me.

Tic...Tic…Tic...The suspense overcomes me….eager to find out what will happen…scared to imagine myself behind cold and gray; gray bars that enclose me from all aspects of life…I call it Hell.

The female officer came in. She was average height, African and had an innocent look to her. She asked, “Your friends are being interrogated as well. So tell me, who are you because I don’t seem to have you on file?” I told her my name and then silence over came me when she began to ask questions I was scared for my life and not sure what to do at that given time.

I didn’t budge because I didn’t want to go to prison; people who go to prison go in and never come out. At this point, I was only a suspect for the crime, maybe I had a chance. They only knew that two people did it because J’neal accidently left a tape behind showing two people robbing the bank in masks. Xavier already confessed that he was involved in the robbery because he was tired of living on the streets; I guess he figured prison couldn’t be any worse. It was down to just me and J’neal. They sat us at the same table and the head officer said, “So who is it? Each man inhaled a breath of fear and looked away. (Each twig gushed a puff of smoke and went out.). One of you is going to prison, who will it be today?” I never expected what came next, J’neal said, “I did it sir…I robbed the bank down on Fourth Avenue.” I looked at J’neal in a confused way, I was the one that did it but he still took the blame. That was the end of it I was free, I didn’t deserve to be, but I was. Before they took J’neal I asked him, “Why did you do that for me?” He said, “Man I need to get my fuck’n act together and get off this crack—I have a two month old son who needs me to be in his life. I figured this was my best shot at making that happen; besides you’re a good rapper too—you deserve a break.” I said, “Thank you” before the guards took him away.

I never forgot what J’neal did for me ever since that day. I have a family now two boys and a little girl. My wife’s name is Shanel. I thought I owed it to J’neal to go out and find a rapping agent. It took a couple years for me to actually be successful, but I won a Grammy award so far and I have been asked to make a record deal with SONY. Life was great, the only problem I had was not feeling guilty for the day of the robbery. Every day I would have flashbacks to the part where J’neal took the blame for it and not me. I told myself I would just have to ignore it, but I never could. It was hard to enjoy life with so much guilt on my back. I kept waiting for someone to knock on my door to take me away for good, but they never did. I never told my wife what happened, nor did I ever talk about my life on the streets with her. I felt if I never talked about it, it didn’t exist.

******************************************************************************

I recognized the face of Q from a distance; a man with an innocent manifestation. It questioned me to believe that his joyful expressions were fading. His eyes were always half closed; persuading me to believe sleep was no longer existent.  A fake smile evolved on his face as Q watches his two kids play on the swings. He pushes both of them with a great amount of energy and gives a smile, but in a quick second the happiness begins to dissolve. There was something wrong, something not right, something that caused Q to act this way.  His spirit was lost. I walk away in silence analyzing everything I missed while I was in jail. I had time to discover the definition of life. Life doesn’t have a pause button; you just have to keep moving forward.

The trees looked bare, just like on the day of the robbery, my family was eating dinner and then the doorbell rang. In a second the door suddenly opened. (In the meantime the cat slowly recovered.) Q took a quick glance and then recognized the man immediately. Q said nothing, J’neal said, “It’s okay” and took one more glance at Q and then gave a smile and left. Q was still in shock when Q’s daughter said, “Who was that daddy?”

A friend, and then a smile grew slowly on Q’s face.