Blackout: Stand Your Ground Read Online Free PDF Page A

someone hit him. He wanted to hurt someone just so they could feel what Meesie was feeling.
     
                “Somebody’s gonna pay for your pain Meesie !” Jawan cried. He took the back of his hand and wiped the tears away. Nothing about this was fair to him.
     
                “Enough— Jawan —“ Meesie began to cough and gripped her hand over her stomach.
     
                “ Meesie , baby, don’t try to talk right now. I’m a find somewhere safe to pull over and I’m a help you get cleaned up,” Jawan said frantically.
     
                “No, Jawan — enough has been done already. You’ve killed three people tonight. No one else needs to pay. Think about your father and if this is what he would’ve wanted.”
     
                The mention of his father didn’t make him feel any better. It only made him reminisce on the time they’d spent together before he was brutally murdered. He thought about all the times he needed his father growing up and the times he would insanely become jealous of seeing his friends with their fathers.  He missed him and felt that now was a good time to speak with him. He didn’t know what his future held. Would he get locked up or would he be killed? Either way he wanted to be for certain that he spoke with his father before anything happened.
     

     
    ****
     

     
                The sun had begun to rise into the car awakening Jawan from his sleep. After cleaning up Meesie’s wounds as best he could and giving her some pain medicine, he’d parked nearby the cemetery where his father was buried. The cemetery shut the gates when the sun went down and opened them as soon as the sun rose.  
     
                Jawan looked over at Meesie whom was sleeping peacefully with her head resting against the window. He was glad to see that she was feeling some type of relief even if it had been just a little. He hated to see her in so much discomfort and was slowly juggling his thoughts on what he would do. Her injuries were too severe to go untreated by a medical professional, but he couldn’t go anywhere near a hospital. He knew she would have a fit if he tried to suggest dropping her off and leaving, but something had to be done.
     
                Taking a deep breath, Jawan stepped out of the car, stretched his body, and then looked around before crossing the street. He entered the cemetery’s grounds and took on a brisk walk toward his father’s burial site. This was a place that he visited quite often, especially during times when he felt like there was no one else in the world that understood him. It was a place of peace and the only place he could find calm in the wake of a storm.
     
                He knelt down on one knee, and wiped the dirt and debris away from the headstone. He could feel his pulse rising and felt his self about to break into a nervous sweat. This was how it had always been anytime he was in his father’s presence—dead or alive, he continually wanted to please him. His father had been a great man and he couldn’t help but feel as if he had disappointed him.
     
                “On my way over here, I kept thinking about the day you took me to see the Miami Heat play the New Orleans Hornets in the first round playoffs. It was the first time I fell in love with sports. I was so infatuated with the athletes and their skills that I couldn’t stop smiling that whole damn week. It was so powerful seeing the grace in which our people moved! I remember going outside everyday practicing them same moves I saw that night. Every time you would go to work, you would tell me how good I was doing and how proud you were of me. That always made me feel good, just to know that I made you proud.
     
                I’ve fucked up. You would’ve never wanted me to carry on the family name like this. I’m just so sick of the way they do us—so sick of the