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  • Hükümet Adı: Mark Dixon
  • Sayı kayıt: R-01558
  • Yaş:32
  • Zaman Served:14 yaş
  • Home Town:Chicago, Illinois
  • Cümle:35 yaş
  • Şarj akımı:1st Derecesi Cinayet, 2 Girişimi Cinayet Sayımlar
  • Takma ad:Chyna Bo
  • Yayın Tarihi:2034
  • Cezaevi Ortaklık:Gangster Disciple
  • Etki daire:LaBron Neal Bey, Geri çekilmek
  • Kurum:Pickneyville Islah Merkezi
  • Sokaklarda öldürülen her çocuk ile, Kafanda bullseye büyük yetişir.

The Get High


Jaheim and his childhood best friend Rick sit in a parked car and smoke blunts and sip a bottle of hard liquor.

Jaheim inhales the marijuana smoke, “See I get high to take me out of this chaos; Turn up,” and exhales.

“You a lie. You get high cause it feels good,” Rick replies as he takes a sip from the bottle.

“Huh, aight, Doğru. But still, once I feel good, my situation don’t look so bad,” Jaheim says as he passes the blunt and receives the drink. “Maybe that’s true but that don’t change the reality of your situation. It only makes you blind to what’s going on.” Jaheim jerks his head back in surprise, “This must be some good cause you starting to sound like Elijah.” “Elijah? Who dat?” Rick asks. “Elijah Muhammad from the Nation of Islam.” Both men burst into laughter as Rick chokes on some smoke.

“You a fool, but you ever thought about that?” “Ne, how much you sound like Elijah Muhammad?” “Naw fool. You ever thought that we could be doing more with our time than getting high every chance we get?” “I don’t know about you, but things so fucked up around here, if I aint high, I’d probably snap.”

For a second the only sound in the car is the crackling of the fire as the weed gets smoked.

“Look around Ja, what you see?” Jaheim checks the rearview mirror and looks out the driver’s side window, “Evet, this some fire weed. You definitely sound paranoid.” “Naw, straight up, what you see?”

Jaheim looks across the street at the burned out building that he and his homies used as a hangout until crackhead Jim burnt it down. A few houses down is the rundown house where the twins, Quita and Sheri, used to sell dope until they were robbed and killed. Directly across the street from that house is the house where J-Bo aka Jonathan shot three rivals in a drunken rage two years ago. Both houses stare at the empty dark street in front of them. After so many losses most of the families left the block leaving it empty and rundown.

“Ben, gerçek, I don’t see nothing. You tripping.” “Am I? Think Ja, this a neighborhood. Why it look like a war-torn battlefield? Cause we too busy gettin’ high to care. All the weed, all the liquor in the world don’t make that reality go away. On the real, it’s clouding our vision of what’s really going on.”

Jaheim sips the drink as he starts the car. “Where we going? I thought we was posted?” Rick asks.

“Takin’ yo ass home. All that preaching blowin’ my buzz.”

“Chill out. I’m just . . .” about to put the blunt to his, Jaheim snatches it. “I guess you don’t want no more of this either,” he says laughing.


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