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Vicious

Something Must Be Done

By Faheem The WriterPublished 5 years ago 14 min read
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Heavy wind combined with the heavy rain simultaneously labor. Suddenly a flash of light appears in the gray skies. Debris containing all sorts of intoxicants including piss bottles and spit cans tumble in the air.

Lightning suddenly strikes. During times like this old folks would say that the devil is beating his wife.

The line to enter Zion Towers is almost a country mile long. The harsh weather conditions haven't deterred the junkies from standing in puddles of sewage water. Everyone in the line has a serious problem. Their problem is they're all addicted to a drug called heroin. It's an intoxicating poison, the remarkable pleasures outweigh the dangers. Just as being entertained seems to outweigh the pain.

“No robbing! No begging! No cutting the line, and absolutely no selling anything in the line! No standing around scratching and nodding! Get what you came for and keep it pushing!" The Banger responsible for patrolling the outside is walking back and forth dressed in an all-black North Face multi-purpose suit. All you can see is his eyes, nose, and mouth. The tone of his voice is authoritative. The adolescent Banger means every word that he says. He does not play.

The next junkie in line gladly steps inside the dry building. "Is this that Genghis Khan? I heard this is fire." He anxiously inquires.

"Yeah, this that stuff that will have you wanting to dance like you got ants in your pants." The Banger responsible for making the hand-to-hand transaction answers.

The customer smiles revealing missing partials before reaching in his wet trouser pockets and removing 3 twenty dollar bills and 1 ten dollar bill. "Let me get seven." He requests.

The value of the transaction is $70. Everywhere else in the city the value would be $35, however, the product contains double the potency so it cost double the money. And it saves you double the trouble of searching for quality. It's also double enjoyable. You get what you pay for is True Bangs motto. True has created his own Patmos. In the laboratories of his mind, he's discovered the most suitable title for his product Genghis Khan. Genghis Khan, the late great Mongolian ruler was a real killer, and so is the product.

The transacting Banga places seven glassine bags in the junkie’s itchy palms. They all have the bold letters Genghis Khan stamped in black coloring.

Genghis Khan is in demand. The product generates more traffic than holiday season last minute shopping. This doesn't disturb everyday living. The residents of the building are not affected by this at all. They're accustomed to seeing criminal activity. Crime is hard to suppress when you live in distress and poverty. The very few who happen to be a little agitated by the excessive traffic keep their mouths shut. They're not sure who they can trust. They're positive that they can not trust the cops, nor their neighbors. This is a textbook case of divide and conquer.

There was a study done on how overcrowded population affects behavior. Mice were used in place of the struggling poor citizens. The mice were housed in small spaces. Just like the residents who reside in low-income housing developments all around America. At the peak of the experiment and the population, most mice spent every living second in the company of hundreds of other mice. As you see the residents in urban communities frequently accompanying and in the surroundings of their homies and cronies. The mice would gather in the main squares and wait to be fed. This is the exact same lack of motivation that exists in the hood. No one wants to feed themselves. Able bodies are sitting around waiting for somebody to feed them. Mice are constantly attacking each other. Look at all the violence in low-income communities all around this country. The people are constantly attacking each other.

Concerning the female mice, they seldom carried pregnancies full term and the lucky ones that did successfully give birth simply forgot about their babies. They nursed protected and provided for some and left the others to fend for themselves. Look at many mothers in the struggle. They have abandoned their children, they also show favoritism. All these things are happening today. And it can be defined as moral decay. This is not an experiment it's real life, and we are living it.

"No robbing! No begging! No cutting the line, and absolutely no selling anything in the line! No standing around scratching and nodding! Get what you came for and keep it pushing!"

The patrolling Banger is still making his rounds while maintaining order amongst the substance users and abusers as the next addict enters the building drenching wet. She is a sickly slender Hispanic woman in her early 50s.

"Is this good for shooters?" She whines.

"This that 80s P- dope. The stuff to have you scratching and nodding, and licking your own clit." The transacting Banger guarantees.

She's suspicious and extremely picky. All intravenous users usually are. All dope-fiends know and understand that there's some heroin that somehow only a sniffer can enjoy. There's also some heroin that only a mainliner can enjoy. And then you have Genghis Khan. The Best of Both Worlds a real killer, a real potent substance that everybody can enjoy.

"If it's not good I'll be back."

The Mamacita threatens, she has no intention of letting anyone beat her for her last $100. Bad dope is like no dope at all. Once the heroin takes over the connoisseurs’ digestive system it reprograms the body, it resets the brain. If a person doesn't get it they become sickly. So what, who cares if the substance is poison? When an addict is sick that same poison is their heaven. It’s their healing. It's the antidote and the answer. Point Blank. Meanwhile, True Bangs occupies the staircase in the back of the hallway near the elevators. Bangers of all ages, sizes, and stages of growth and development are also loitering, with a variety of purposes ranging from rankings to job assignments.

True takes the opportunity to tell a story about crazy white boys who randomly go around raising people's blood pressures by means of fear. They're referred to as extreme pranksters. They've earned over 1 million views on YouTube for their extreme methods, and churlish antics.

"I got to show you'll this." True exclaims before tapping the screen on his iPhone.

A video clipping immediately begins playing. The footage is remarkably clear. Everyone watches attentively as a man walks down a dark street at night minding his own business. Suddenly the prankster jumps from behind a tree dressed in a medieval robe clutching an ax. The walker is hysterically frightened. Human instincts kick in causing him to run like hell. The prankster then proceeds to chase the man. True pulls his semi-auto from his waistband, he imitates how fast and meaningfully he would have squeezed the trigger if he were in that predicament. True's deep dark healthy dreadlocks bounce in the middle of his back as he goes through the reenactment.

A Facebook notification sporadically pops up on True's phone. It reads JERSEY WOMAN AND HER CHILD BEAT UP BY COPS. True clicks on it. To his surprise, a severely battered young woman is cuffed and escorted out of her home. There's more, a distraught little girl hits a male detective with a closed fist. What happens next is totally unnecessary. The Bangers are flabbergasted as they watch in disbelief and disgust.

“Pay attention Bangers. What you see from afar will soon be at your doorsteps. All this rain and all this pain is a sign. More calamities and tragedies are coming our way.” True Bangs speaks intelligently.

Bangers openly express their disapproval as they witness the young child being handled by the back of her neck as if she were a domesticated pet, not an innocent, helpless, little girl. The Bangers are all infuriated. They roar aloud in rage. How can True feel sorry for little Eboni when he is personally responsible for sending her father back to the essence? This is the untold part of tragedy after the beefing and shooting, after the weeping and mourning. When life has to go on without the protectors and providers. When communities and families are left vulnerable and significantly affected. Something Must Be Done.

Outside

The rain is still coming down hard. The storm is getting worst and the water is continually rising.

A firecracker red 2018 Jeep Cherokee treads water as it pulls up close enough to the curb to permit Uzi_kas room to bail out. Uzi_Kas skillfully records the awesome footage with his iPhone X. There's a grown man freezing his butt off, wearing a pair of little league track shorts.

"That's not going to get you the you know what," Uzi_kas says his famous punch line with a straight face. "That's going to get you a case for wearing those underage shorts."

The addicts in line laugh, they've all noticed and secretly thought to themselves. The open exposure is amusing to most of them. They get a little carried away with their humor, disrupting the order of the line.

"No robbing! No begging! No cutting the line, and absolutely no selling anything in the line! No standing around scratching and nodding! Get what you came for, and keep it pushing!" The Banger responsible for patrolling the outside maintains order amongst the substance users and abusers.

A stolen Chrysler 300 traveling at an unbreakable speed comes flying past the line of anxious addicts causing a tidal wave of filthy water to splash all over everyone in line.

The Bangers in the Chrysler laugh uncontrollably. They're just kids having fun, not concerned about the detrimental consequences of their actions.

The next guy in line is superstitious so he lets down his umbrella, and removes his skullcap before entering the building. The addict can't afford any bad luck. Lately, he's been experiencing a streak of good luck. He hasn't had to concern himself about how he will get high. His job holding a place in line has been getting him by just fine.

"Charlene!" The guy shouts and waves with his hands.

Charlene rushes over. She has a family and a career that she doesn't want to lose. She can't afford to be late for work anymore, so she hires Jonathan. Charlene is classified as a functional addict. Charlene is breathing hard and extremely fatigued. She sniffles and then coughs.

Charlene covers her mouth with both of her hands before clearing her throat. She can't hold it in anymore her stomach is cramping. It feels like her guts are about to bust. Charlene farts a milky way. She is dope sick and in desperate need of a fix.

"What did I just say? No cutting in line!" The patrolling Banger steps straight to Charlene, he's itching to enforce the rules. Regardless of who it is man, woman, child, beast or priest.

"She's just giving me some money, she's not in line."

"Well hurry up!" The young Banger commands. He is an adolescent with a semi-automatic weapon. His age prevents severe consequence. Society deems him not eligible or mentally developed enough to make independent decisions. Nor perform unsupervised tasks, yet the young Banger has been given the task of operating an instrument with the capabilities of diminishing life. This is a serious issue. As you are reading my words, the problem is going on all around the United States of America. For every US soldier killed in Afghanistan during the 11 years of war at least 13 children are shot, and murdered in the US.

Something must be done.

Readers, my goal is to educate entertain and inform. To spice things up. I am sharing an interview and titled my pain is my pain. Throughout what's known widely as the crack era. The deadly substance has devastated communities throughout this country.

As early as 1981, reports of crack were appearing in Los Angeles, Oakland, San Diego, Miami, Houston, and in the Caribbean.

By 1985 the effects were absolutely devastating. During a lecture, Dr. Wesley Muhammad stated that the substance devastated the physiology of the victim, and produces zombies by design.

This rare interview took more time than expected while editing I have my first chance to talk to Nina’s daughter Isabel. I must say that she's a very smart teenager with hopes of joining the Armed Forces becoming a forensic scientist and most of all meeting her mother. Despite being taken away at 6 months and age she still wants what every normal American child desires she wants to hold, express affection, and receive nurturance from her biological mother. This innocent child broke down in tears. She doesn't deserve the hell that she's been put through. None of our sisters or daughters deserve this. It's time America reevaluated our morality system. It's time we asked ourselves what heartless, evil, careless, soulless person would plan and execute such a devastating agenda. Without any further ado here is the detailed interview with Nina Lynette Sanderlin at [email protected].

My Pain is My Pain

Faheem: I understand that you are a recovering addict. Do you have a problem with discussing your addiction?

Nina: Absolutely not, because it's who I am.

Faheem: What exactly led you to hard substance abuse?

Nina: To begin with, my childhood was not normal at all. The typical 3-year-old child is protected. I was vulnerable, therefore taken advantage of by my grandfather. That man actually sat me on his lap and put liquor in my bottle while he molested me. My mother was sick with multiple sclerosis. The situation was all bad.

Faheem: Oh wow, your grandfather was sedating you if I may say. Your mom had a serious illness, and your biological father had substance abuse issues.

Nina: There's more. Our living conditions were very unstable. Thought forms matter. As a result, my mind was unbalanced. Presently, I am receiving mental health treatment.

Faheem: Does the medicine help? Does it take away the pain?

Nina: Absolutely nothing can take away the pain of being pimped by your father to support his drug addiction, and settle his unpaid debts.

Faheem: I'm lost for words. All I can think of is why didn't Child Protective Services intervene?

Nina: Let me say that I didn't tell on my dad. I loved Cecil despite his faults and sins as every daughter loves her father. It's a genetically coded bond. Child Protective Services did intervene. Unfortunately, the damage was already done. It was too late. I had already been introduced to smoking crack.

Faheem: How old were you when you first smoked crack?

Nina: I first fell in love with crack cocaine when I was 15 years old. That was my worst mistake. It cost me to deny my children the joy of having a mother. I also deprived myself of the joy of raising children. All that dead time I wasted in my life. The time I can't get back. Can you imagine being addicted to a substance so strong that it causes you to choose death over life?

Faheem: No I can't. Please share some of those painful experiences if you don't mind.

Nina: Honestly I do mind, nevertheless I will share it with you Faheem. My experience should serve as the perfect example of the horror crack causes. While my mother sat in a nursing home on her deathbed in pain, concerned and worried about my well being. I sat in a crack house in an incapacitating state unconcerned and numb. The only thing I worried about was my next hit. In a normal society, the mother is revered. I should have done everything in my power to make her last days, much better days. I live with that pain. That's something I don't think that I could ever get over.

Faheem: Do you think that the drug problem has been put here to destroy lives? Please explain?

Nina: What I know is that drugs have destroyed a large portion of my life, and my addiction has affected the lives of those close to me. It’s criminal that this Capitalist society places a burden on the citizens that serves as a mechanism to divert and distract. As far as drugs being put here, my grandmother was born in the 1930’s. That was the era of Duke Ellington and Count Basie. No one smoked crack in those times, therefore it had to come from somewhere.

Faheem: What kind of shape is your life today?

Nina: My life has been shattered in many painful portions. My focus is on picking up the pieces one by one. I have been clean for 15 months, and 24 days. I maintain gainful employment. It's not the highest paying job. All it does is get the bills paid, but it’s honest, and it’s a start. I have also been reconnected to my daughters through Facebook and phone conversations.

Faheem: That’s good to hear, I'm truly happy for you.

In conclusion, I'm very grateful for the time everyone sets aside to read my stories. If you wish to further extend a hand, please tell a friend and/or kindly leave a tip. All contributions will be used toward the spread of a positive message. Stay tuned, there’s more to come.

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About the Creator

Faheem The Writer

Self-published author of the Vicious, These Boots Too Big, Generational Curse & Rough Stuff. Faheem is a native of Newark, NJ. His works contain a strong positive message & shines light on struggles that all readers can relate too.

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