The Only Virgin he Knew

“You ready to die over this pussy?” She stares him directly in his eye, one bottle in each hand. “Cause I am.”

he’s not use to this, they’ve never jumped at him before, never raised their hand to him. Uncertain, he squats and returns her gaze. he’s use to fear. Fear he understands. Fear he can negotiate with, but she doesn’t look afraid. She doesn’t look scared at all.

True Spivey is crouched down low. Pissed as hell. True knows fear. True just don’t do fear. True does mad and she does it well. These mothahs have no idea who they messing with is all that’s ringing in her head. True knows that no matter what goes down this night, she won’t be the only one lying down.

“True, don’t nobody got to get hurt-”

“Running a train on somebody is hurting them, punk,” she keeps staring at the one in the middle. The one they call ‘king midas’ but she’s talking to him. True had never call him ‘punk’ before.  Hearing it come from her shoots daggers straight to his heart. They’ve always called him ‘punk.’ Everybody in this whole neighborhood knows him as ‘punk.’ Only True remembers his name is actually Kareem Abdul, just like the basketball player. He knew midas and them wanted a girl for the night. He knew it and when they asked him to bring a virgin he didn’t think anything about it. True was the only virgin he knew. That’s the reason he asked her to come. He didn’t know this was how midas and them got down.

True doesn’t look at anyone but midas. She does not take her eyes off of him. When he goes to scratch his chin she taps the bottle in her left hand on the ground, loud enough to make him jump but not hard enough to break it.

“You think you can take us?” midas whispers to her.

True has already surveyed the ‘they.’ She figures her sobriety gives her the advantage. Three dudes drinking and smoking blunts all night long won’t be as swift or fast. They have her on size but not on determination. And punk is one of the three.

Quietly she answers him, “I only need to take one of you out.”

midas laughs. True taps the bottle in her right hand on the ground, this time it cracks and the goon standing on midas’ left  speaks, “This bitch is crazy.”

True stares at midas. She figures she’s taken on her father and that stupid mothah fuckin’ quarterback who tried something the night after homecoming, she won’t have no problems driving one of these bottles into one of these fools.

midas smiles at her, whispering, “You think you woman enough to kill somebody? You think you got it in you to take somebody out? You ain’t nothing.”

True is use to men trying to undermine her. She’s use to people underestimating who she is and what she will do. midas has got it all wrong tonight. Continuing to hold his gaze, she speaks slowly, “I put a bullet in my daddy once. What do you think your life means to me?”

midas doesn’t believe her. he turns and asks punk for verification. True stares at midas while he listens to the story.

“It’s true. Her daddy was beating on her mother real bad one night last summer. He threw her out the house. I mean he threw the woman out the 1st floor window of their house and then he jumped out the window to keep beating on her some more. Everybody heard it. True was screaming. Her brothers were screaming. True came running out the house with her daddy’s pistol. She screamed ‘somebody call the police. somebody call the police,’ and Mrs. Johnson was on the phone calling but everybody else was just standing there watching. True fired a shot and her daddy looked up but he was still holding their mama by the neck and you could see it wasn’t much life in the woman. True told him to drop her or she would kill him. Just like that she told her daddy she would kill him. That fool threw True’s mama and then started running toward True. That’s when we all heard the shot. She took his ear off. His whole ear. True picked up her brothers and moved them down the street with their granma. She told her daddy he bet never come back to that house again or she would finish the job then she rode to the hospital with her mother.”

“You got balls like that? You just a little girl, 15, 16 years old?” midas isn’t whispering anymore.

True stares at him. She begins silently praying the only prayer she knows…now I lay me down to sleep. I pray the Lord my soul to keep.

“You got balls like that we need you on this side. I need you in my crew.” midas considers True. he was in the mood for tail and she looked so sweet in her red jeans. he knew she would taste just as fine as she smelled. he was definitely in the mood for tail but it was usually easier than this. they usually just gave it to him and then he let his boys get their taste. he never had to fight no tail.

True starts tapping the bottles. Left. If I should die before I wake. Right. I pray the Lord my soul to take. Left. God bless Mommy. Right. God Bless my granma. Left. God bless my brothers. Right. Amen.

midas stands.

True continues to stare at him but she is speaking to punk, “I leave here on my own accord or in a body bag, but you will never be forgiven either way.”

midas waves to his goon. True breaks the bottle in her left hand. midas’ goon attempts to take her from behind, swift as lighting she sinks the broken bottle into his side. he screams and goes for her throat. True sweeps his feet and he is on the ground. She pulls the bloody bottle from his side and places her knee on his throat. he is drunk and high but she is strangling him putting her full weight into her knee.

midas attempts to pull her off and she presses her knee deeper into his throat. She is staring the goon in his eyes. he is pleading with her. midas grabs her hair. punk grabs midas and True is pulled along with them. midas is swearing. punk punches midas in his kidney and midas goes down. the goon is trying to catch his breath unsuccessfully. he bleeds profusely from his stab wound.

True is free and turns on midas. he is on his back withering in pain and holding his side. She uses the bottle in her right hand and puts it to his throat. She whispers to him, “This is how it feels to them. All those girls who you tricked into trains. This is how it feels to them.”

Using the bottle’s jagged edge she cuts him. he screams but her cut is not fatal. Instead she wants to wound him…for life. She hisses, “Now you’re marked and everyone will know I marked you. Just like you marked all those girls. Now you’re marked.”

Still clutching her bottles True starts toward the gate. She remembers the lighter in her pocket and turns back into the yard. midas and his goon are still on the ground clutching their wounds. punk watches True. She pours what’s left of the liquor on the couch under the car port then she lights it. The couch catches quickly. True is relieved. It won’t be used again. Picking up her bottles, True heads toward the gate.

She cannot look at punk. She will never look at him again. But she decides that before she leaves the yard she will tell him what is on her mind, “You were my friend and you feed me to wolves like it was nothing. You were my friend. This is your hell knowing that all along you really were a punk. All along they were right and I was wrong. You were a punk. You will die a punk.”

Walking out the gate, True knows that she escaped being a victim of a train but somehow she does not feel free.

2 Comments Add yours

  1. christiana83 says:

    Wow, you’ve left my heart racing and my blood boiling! What a heroine! I love this story.

    1. 98dayjourney says:

      I appreciate you reading the story. It was kind of difficult to write but getting it out definitely helped exercise some pretty ugly imagines I’ve been carrying around.

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