Read Online A Child of a Crackhead by Shameek Speight - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Shameek Speight
Tags: United States, Literature & Fiction, Thrillers, Crime, Genre Fiction, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Urban, African American, Thrillers & Suspense
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the pipe up to her mouth. Her hand shook as she held the lighter at the end and lit the pipe. Rachel took a tiny puff, inhaling the crack smoke.
“Rachel, don’t fucking play with me.
Hit that shit! You better take a big hit better than that, bitch!”
Rachel did as she was told. She sucked on the glass pipe as hard as she could. The crack smoke rushed down her throat and into her lungs. She began to cough from the hard hit. Black Ice smiled his infamous devilish smile as he watched her cough up smoke. Rachel felt lightheaded, but with an instant jolt of energy. Her eyes opened wide and the pain she felt earlier all over her body was gone.
When Rachel looked up from coughing, Black ice looked in her eyes and saw the glassy look they had and he knew he had her. “Give me the pipe.” He said as Rachel passed the pipe to him. She prayed that the worst was over. Black Ice repacked the pipe with more crack and passed it right back to Rachel. “Hit it again.” He said. Rachel did what she was ordered to do. She hit the pipe again. They spent the whole night getting high together.
A month had passed; it amazed Black Ice how fast Rachel got hooked on crack.
She was smoking more than he was now.
Rachel smoked the entire crack up in the house. She couldn’t fight the cravings. She needed to smoke every minute of the day.
She lost a lot of weight. She went from 140
pounds to 90 pounds. She wore the same clothes every day. The tip of her fingers turned black from the heat of the glass pipe burning them. Her lips turned black too.
Michael watched as his beautiful mother started changing her looks from starting to smoke that funny smelling stuff.
She looked like a stranger to him. She no longer made sure that he was fed or that he was wearing clean clothes. She didn’t even pay him any attention anymore. Michael was forced to look after himself with his father running the stress and his mother locked in her bedroom getting high. She left him to take care of himself at the age of six.
That made Michael’s heart grow colder and hate his father even more. Michael lay on his pillow crying. He held in the tears. His stomach hurt and was in so much pain.
There was no food in the house for him to eat. His mother only cared about smoking.
She neglected to go shop for food. As Michael stomach growled, tears started flowing down his face and he prayed the hunger would go away once he fell asleep.
The next morning, Michael awoke to the smell of food. He opened his eyes and saw a bag on his dresser. He hopped out of his bed and ran to it. Inside there was a box with four chicken wings and fried rice from the Chinese restaurant. He knew his mother had gotten him the food. She’d be the only one to think about him once in a while.
Times like that, reminded him of why he still loved his mother so much even though she hasn’t been the same since she started smoking with his father. He quickly started eating his food to stop the hunger pains from his stomach making sure he didn’t miss a crumb. He ate so fast that he bit his fingers twice while eating the chicken and rice. He smiled and rubbed his little belly. He wondered what his mother was doing. He wanted to go thank her for the food she left him. But, he thought she was probably smoking that stuff again.
Michael got up and walked to his mother’s bedroom. When he heard screams, he listened carefully. It was his mother. He ran to the door of her bedroom and opened it. When he saw what she was hollering about, he knew she didn’t need his protection. His mother’s legs were up in the air resting on his father’s shoulders as his father humped and pounded away on his mother. Michael had seen this enough times before to know that his mother was in no danger. He closed their bedroom door and walked into the living room. He covered his ears to diminish the sounds that were coming from his parents’ bedroom.
After a half an hour, he blocked out the sounds all together. He
“Rachel, don’t fucking play with me.
Hit that shit! You better take a big hit better than that, bitch!”
Rachel did as she was told. She sucked on the glass pipe as hard as she could. The crack smoke rushed down her throat and into her lungs. She began to cough from the hard hit. Black Ice smiled his infamous devilish smile as he watched her cough up smoke. Rachel felt lightheaded, but with an instant jolt of energy. Her eyes opened wide and the pain she felt earlier all over her body was gone.
When Rachel looked up from coughing, Black ice looked in her eyes and saw the glassy look they had and he knew he had her. “Give me the pipe.” He said as Rachel passed the pipe to him. She prayed that the worst was over. Black Ice repacked the pipe with more crack and passed it right back to Rachel. “Hit it again.” He said. Rachel did what she was ordered to do. She hit the pipe again. They spent the whole night getting high together.
A month had passed; it amazed Black Ice how fast Rachel got hooked on crack.
She was smoking more than he was now.
Rachel smoked the entire crack up in the house. She couldn’t fight the cravings. She needed to smoke every minute of the day.
She lost a lot of weight. She went from 140
pounds to 90 pounds. She wore the same clothes every day. The tip of her fingers turned black from the heat of the glass pipe burning them. Her lips turned black too.
Michael watched as his beautiful mother started changing her looks from starting to smoke that funny smelling stuff.
She looked like a stranger to him. She no longer made sure that he was fed or that he was wearing clean clothes. She didn’t even pay him any attention anymore. Michael was forced to look after himself with his father running the stress and his mother locked in her bedroom getting high. She left him to take care of himself at the age of six.
That made Michael’s heart grow colder and hate his father even more. Michael lay on his pillow crying. He held in the tears. His stomach hurt and was in so much pain.
There was no food in the house for him to eat. His mother only cared about smoking.
She neglected to go shop for food. As Michael stomach growled, tears started flowing down his face and he prayed the hunger would go away once he fell asleep.
The next morning, Michael awoke to the smell of food. He opened his eyes and saw a bag on his dresser. He hopped out of his bed and ran to it. Inside there was a box with four chicken wings and fried rice from the Chinese restaurant. He knew his mother had gotten him the food. She’d be the only one to think about him once in a while.
Times like that, reminded him of why he still loved his mother so much even though she hasn’t been the same since she started smoking with his father. He quickly started eating his food to stop the hunger pains from his stomach making sure he didn’t miss a crumb. He ate so fast that he bit his fingers twice while eating the chicken and rice. He smiled and rubbed his little belly. He wondered what his mother was doing. He wanted to go thank her for the food she left him. But, he thought she was probably smoking that stuff again.
Michael got up and walked to his mother’s bedroom. When he heard screams, he listened carefully. It was his mother. He ran to the door of her bedroom and opened it. When he saw what she was hollering about, he knew she didn’t need his protection. His mother’s legs were up in the air resting on his father’s shoulders as his father humped and pounded away on his mother. Michael had seen this enough times before to know that his mother was in no danger. He closed their bedroom door and walked into the living room. He covered his ears to diminish the sounds that were coming from his parents’ bedroom.
After a half an hour, he blocked out the sounds all together. He
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