Just wanted to write quick post to anyone who still follows this blog that I’m still here. This site is still my homepage on my laptop and bookmarked on my phone. I haven’t did anything creative since January (YouTube video). Mainly because of my weight and my struggle to get back in shape. My body has a big affect on my mind. But besides that, losing two key relationships on here discouraged me from posting consistently. Namely Chanita. I still think about her. But no use in trying to reach out again. I have always posted st least once a month since I started but last month was the first time I didn’t. This month is without a post as well (this is temporary). I plan on still making a birthday post and backdating it. Hope I can get my creativity back. I feel worthless.
Have you ever typed something while the barrel of a glock is pushed against your occiput?
This is my first time.
15 years ago, me and another customer pulled up in the lot of Wal-Mart. We parked bumper to bumper. A young woman got out and started for the entrance. As I was walking pass her vehicle I saw a child in the backseat sleeping. I yelled out, “Mam! Mam! Your baby!” She graciously thanked me and said she forgot her son was in the car because of his taciturn. 21 minutes into their shopping, in the back of the store, near the electronics section, for a few moments, she left her cart unattended. A basket her son was sitting in with her purse next to him. The inquisitive toddler reached into it, unzipped a special pocket for a concealed weapon and accidentally shot his mother in the head, instantly killing her. I heard, what I thought was a roof collapse, in the food section.
Over a decade later, that boy’s father got tired of lying to his son when he questioned where his mom was and why she never came home. He decided his son was old enough to know the truth. His father showed him the video surveillance he obtained from the Sheriff’s office after investigators ruled the incident was an accident. The video showed that heartbreaking moment, but the reason I’m sitting here with a gun pressed to the back of my head is because it also showed the parking lot footage. A 17-year-old man, who was once that 2-year-old little boy, is on the other side of this gun.
Before I die, I want the world to know the truth. I am responsible for Victoria Miller’s death. Not her son! I am the one who should have lived a life of confusion and anger these last 15 years. Not her son! I am the one who should have been lied to over and over and told it wasn’t my fault knowing it GOT DAMN WAS. Not her son! If I had just minded my business that day. The weather was 46 degrees on March 30, 2000. Not hot enough to have killed this baby. Mrs. Miller was just going in to get a few things. She wouldn’t even have needed a shopping cart. She would have been in the 10 items or less lane. I will pay for this with my life. And I will. To my family and friends, I love you!!! I hope my death teaches you to MIND YOUR GOT DAMN BUSINESS. Goodbye!
Uhh … I am being told, I am being told by the young man I can be saved. I can be saved. Okay. He says all I have to do is, is press control-alt-delete on this wireless keyboard and turn on the TV and put it on the local news.
He told me to close my eyes and count to a hundred. When I got to the century mark I waited on further instruction. It was this long scary silence. I didn’t see his reflection in the computer and looked over my shoulder. He was gone! He’s gone! And I’m still alive!!! There are skid marks in my lawn. He is gone! He really just left my house? I’m still here. No one died. Me or him. I can’t imagine how the last 15 years of his life must’ve been. Once he finally knew the truth it must’ve been hard to accept and he needed to transfer responsibility. But something’s not right. I feel funny. I should be dead. His anger. His aggressiveness. The way the gun was moving on the back of my head, I could tell he was nervous. How did his shaky finger manage to not jerk the trigger? Why did he bring this external keyboard and have me type on it? I’m typing on my laptop’s keyboard now. And why did he have me press control-alt-delete and he knows I have a Mac? Did he have me turn on the TV so I wouldn’t hear him leave?
There’s breaking news.
A car exploded.
I’m sure there are 100’s of White Nissan Maxima’s in the city. But this car wasn’t on the road; it’s in a driveway. Houses can look the same. Yeah, there are plenty homes with a Flintstone car in the front yard, and a little red corvette, and a see-saw, and a garden that looks like a bed with pillows and blankets on it. The reporter said the address. Is it possible, is it possible to have the same address as someone else who lives in your city? What am I seeing, like what is this? I don’t understand what’s happening.
Curious. I pressed control-alt-delete on the wireless keyboard again and this time the house exploded. I’m watching the fucking live shot on the news right now. Frozen. Only my heart and my fingers can move at this point.
I take my eyes off the TV and looked at what he told me to title this post. That’s when it hit me. He wasn’t talking about himself; he was talking about ME!!!
He got even.
I accidentally killed my mom.
EXT. PARKING LOT – DAY
A man is walking away from a store. In the parking lot, he opens the passenger-side door on a car. He sees two kids in the backseat.
Oh, I’m sorry!
Hey! What are you doing?
I’m sorry, I thought this was my ….
He’s trying to steal my car with my babies inside!
What? No! I thought this was …
The woman pulls a gun out of her purse and runs in their direction. The man jumps on the hood of her car to get an overview of the parking lot in search of his ride. He doesn’t see it. When he looks down at the windshield he notices the woman left the keys in the ignition. The woman fires a shot at him. She misses. In a panic and without another choice, he jumps in her car and drives off.
Kids, kids, I’m not carjacking y’all. I. Am. Not. Carjacking. Y’all. Okay?
The woman shoots at the rear end of the car.
[pokes head out window] Your kids are in the car, you asshole!
The man pulls out his cellphone.
Where the hell are you?
I went across the street to pay my T-Mobile bill. I’m on my way back now.
I’m not there!
What you mean?
After you left, a car that looked just like yours pulled up in the parking spot.
I thought it was yours and opened the door. This woman came out the store screaming I was stealing her car.
Where are you now?!
In her car!!!
She shot at me!
There are kids in the backseat, dude!
Police sirens sound off.
She called the cops! Meet me at MLK boulevard, where Selma hospital is. Kids …
I did not carjack y’all.
The man pulls over. The camera is from his POV now. He puts his hands over his eyes. When he takes his hands off his eyes the scene transitions with him sitting on the curb running his hands through his hair, thus finishing the motion. A second cop car pulls up, with the woman riding as a passenger.
Where are my kids, you bastard?
They’re over there with my partner, mam.
Why is he just sitting on the curb and not in the back of y’all car? Arrest him!
We want to see if his story checks out. He said you and his friend have the same car. You got the same parking spot he had when he drove off to another parking lot.
She shot at me!
You believe that bull?
I’m sure this is a big misunderstanding, but if your friend doesn’t pull up in a car that is her car’s twin you are going to jail, my friend.
I’m not lying! I told him to meet me here.
He’s taking an awful long time to. What’s his name?
A dozen people riding bicycles pass by. The one trailing behind the group stops and takes off their helmet. It’s his friend.
Sorry, I’m late! You not gone believe what happened when I came back to the parking lot. Some guy saw my ‘for sale’ sign in the window and paid me 3 times what I was asking for. Then hit me with the ‘and one more thing’ and guess what that one more thing was [bounces the front tire]. Isn’t that awesome?
[looks at the sky] Nooooooo!!!
The scream is heard throughout the city. Distant people turn their heads. Flock of birds fly off. A dog laying down covers its ears. The guy who bought the friend’s car is at a red-light, smiling, listening to music at a low-level and wiping the dust off the dashboard when suddenly all the windows burst.
FADE TO BLACK
In August of 2013, Oscar Ozell, 23, was laying in bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about the day he had – his startup had won a thousand dollar pitch contest. For the first time in his 3 year residency at 308 Eves, Ozell saw something that was out-of-place: A smoke detector in his bedroom hanging up above the entrance to his dressing room. “Why is there a smoke detector in my bedroom?” Ozell curiously said to himself. A red-light was blinking. “Am I being secretly recorded?” Ozell logically thought to himself. Ozell jumped out bed and disconnected the device from the wall to investigate its interior.
What did he find? A hidden spy camera.
Then like an application bouncing when you click it on the iDock, Ozell’s subconscious delivers a relevant thought to the forefront of his mind. “I paid my rent 18 months in advance. So, I had no reason to ever go in the leasing office. But the one time I did, this lady, Karen, knew my name. She was NOT the person I dealt with when I moved in.”
What would that mean? Ozell admits to forgetting his name when he has sex and asking his girlfriend what it is.
“First thing I did was call my girlfriend.”
“I answer the phone and hear him screaming, ‘They been watching us. They been watching us this whole entire time,’ ” says the girlfriend.
It was after-hours. The leasing office was closed. Management has gone home. And it would stay this way for 3 days being Labor Day weekend.
“I didn’t know any of my neighbors. Never got to know them good enough to be invited inside their apartment. I had to get in there. And what a good ice-breaker this was: Hey, has the temperature in your bedroom ever became so hot and steamy the smoke detector in there went off?”
Ozell befriended 3 neighbors and discovered he was not alone in having a smoke detector appropriately looking over his bed.
On Labor Day, 12 hours before Ozell and his new friends angrily marched into the leasing office, a fellow neighbor, Simon Freed, caused a massive 10-alarm fire frying fish.
The worse fire to hit Tennessee in a decade.
Over 600 people was in the eleven-storied building that night. Every single one made it out alive.
“We use to play this game as kids. If your house caught on fire and you could only save one inanimate object, what would it be and why? My cellphone,” said Ozell.
His answer to why is the above photo, which after the destruction of 216 apartment units, was the only evidence that could have implicated 308 Eves.
Because of that photo, management was handed tough prison sentences.
Because of that photo, the displaced tenants were rewarded all their rent and utility money from the time they moved in to their last payments.
Because of that photo, Ozell and friends had the money to move into homes where the smoke detector is conveniently stored in the kitchen.
Built on top:
- Real life experience
Let’s play a game: If your house caught on fire and you could save only one inanimate object, what would it be and why?