Walking back in the direction of the front door, the repetitive nature of the knocks pick up and contain a tinge of agitation, “just a sec… hello?” he asks as he opens the door.
“SO YOU ARE JUST GONNA FUCK ME, GET ME PREGNANT AND THEN LEAVE?!?”
“Whoa, what? Who are you and why are you so loud? You need to calm the fuck down?”
“NO THE FUCK I DON’T! YOU DIDN’T CALM DOWN WHEN YOU PROMISED ME THE WORLD, ON SOME BULLSHIT. ALL JUST TO GET SOME ASS AND THEN BOUNCED. WELL I’M PREGNANT NOW NIGGA, AND THE WORLD IS GONNA KNOW!”
Like clockwork the next door neighbor’s door opens and David peeks outside to see the commotion, from the other side of the lawn. The door of the house across the street opens and an older woman steps out onto her steps, staring in their direction curiously. Immediately following, a young couple that lives next to the old woman from across the street, pull into their driveway and look on as they get out of their X5. The mother picks up her young child and heads in the house as the young man starts across the street.
“Is everything alright over here,” he asks with an air of irritation.
Lifting his arm to waive the guy off, the obnoxiously loud and random woman leans to the right ever so slightly and falls to the ground while crying out. Putting on a performance that was more BET Awards worthy than Screen Actors Guild, she yells out…
“OH MY GOD!!! HE JUST — –”
“HE JUST HIT HER!!!” the guy making his way across the street yelled at the same time. His pace moved from irritated stride, to full run, stopping his forward momentum up the inclined lawn only when he the saw giant man’s size up close.
“Ey man what the fuck? Get your ass up! Ain’t nobody touch you. Sir, I’ve never seen this woman before in my life. And I definitely did not just hit her…”
“Yes you did! I saw it with my own eyes. Ma’am are you okay? I saw the whole thing. Mrs. Burleigh call the police please and hurry.”
“Whoa! The police, for what? I didn’t touch that bitch,” Tahriq remarked menacingly as he stepped off the porch. “Ey man…”
“Stay back sir,” the overly aggressive and helpful neighbor said. “The police are on their way, I think you’ve done enough already.”
“Mr. Raciq, he didn’t hit that woman. I saw the whole thing. That’s Tahriq Alexander, he wouldn’t do that.”
“David, go back in the house, you don’t need to see any more of this scene. Who knows what else this… this man…is capable of,” Mr. Raciq remarked with a look that screamed his desire to address Tahriq with a much different word than man.
Doing as he was told, David turned around and walked back in the house with his head down. No more than a few moments passed after his door closed, before the News 8 and News 5 vans roared up the street. Both armed with cameramen and aggressive reporters looking for details and quotes from all present.
“Yo… WHAT… THE FUCK?!?!?” Tahriq said with both of his hands thrust into his head full of locks.
Mr. Raciq helped the young woman up off ground and with an arm around her, helped her over to the tree by the curb where the vans were parked at awkward angles near one another. Minutes later the police arrived, with an ambulance in tow. Tahriq completely flustered and at a loss, sits down on the edge of the porch, pulling at his dreads now, shaking his head from side to side. Reaching for his cell phone, he realizes that it’s turned off and still sitting on the couch downstairs.
“Mr. Alexander, we have a situation,” said the youngest of the four cops that approached.