Free Homeless by Ms. Michel Moore

he’d walked to the closest grocery market and the Dollar Store to get provisions for the days to follow. Elated at how far he’d come on his own, Lonnie walked over to the window and gazed up at the many bright shining stars. With great hope for his future, he tightly closed his eyes, praying for his mother to give him strength.
    * * *
    The nightmares the teen had went on almost nightly. His mind was unsettled, and he was starting to have severe headaches that wouldn’t go away. Consuming every brand of aspirin on the market, nothing seemed to help. Still tormented by his mother’s death, Lonnie was content being off on his own. He missed her more than anyone could ever know and was having a hard time adjusting to her not being around. Feeling like he’d been basically shitted on by everyone that’d come into his life since that day she left the earth, especially females, he trusted himself and only himself. When he was in class and it came time to form study groups, Lonnie tried his best to complete most projects on his own in order not to form any sort of relationships. He needed to be alone to concentrate and not be distracted by others’ seemingly wonderful lives. When doing something as simple as getting his mail out of the box, the youthful teen that should be out having a good time was doing the opposite, avoiding all contact with his peers. The carefree college experience didn’t apply to him. Even though he was starting to be rumored as being weird, strange, and standoffish, Lonnie was still invited to party after party. Although he declined, the offers still came in.
    â€œHey, guy, you live in apartment 7C, don’t you?”
    Lonnie had just stepped on the elevator. With his book bag tossed over his shoulder and a tuna fish sandwich from Subway in one hand, he pushed his floor number. Assuming the white guy couldn’t be asking him, he ignored the question. After the dude repeated himself, Lonnie realized he was indeed speaking to him. “Yeah, I do. Who’s asking?”
    â€œWhoa, man, slow down. I don’t want any trouble.” He immediately sensed his standoffish neighbor was becoming defensive. “I live down the hall from you in seven-H; the unit on the corner by the stairs.”
    Lonnie thought he’d seen the guy and some of his friends come and go at different times, but wasn’t sure. Not wanting to be any ruder than he’d already been, he eased up on attitude. “Oh, yeah. Sorry, guy. I ain’t mean to come off so rough. It’s just the neighborhood and—”
    The white man smiled, understanding exactly where Lonnie was coming from. “Come on now,” he teased while holding onto a six-pack of beer. “Try being half as white as I am in this neighborhood, and then talk shit!”
    They both shared a brief laugh as the elevator doors opened on their floor. Lonnie was content on being on his way to study and eat his sandwich. However, the guy who had introduced himself as Kevin when they passed the third floor wasn’t quite done.
    â€œAll right, then. Stay up,” Lonnie tried to brush him off.
    Trying his best to be as cool as he automatically assumed Lonnie was, Kevin closed his fist to give his black neighbor a pound. “Hey, just FYI, we’re having a little get-together later this evening.”
    â€œOh, yeah?” Lonnie was disinterested but felt he had to at least act like he was halfway paying attention.
    â€œYeah, dawg. Nothing special, just some of the homies getting together to throw back a few and watch the game. You know, smoke a little weed; a few pills or whatnot. Maybe get a few bitches drunk and high and mess around.”
    Lonnie couldn’t believe the nerve of this fool. He was really talking about smoking trees, running hoes, and taking pills to him, not knowing if he was the police. Damn, white motherfuckers these days don’t give a shit no more; they reckless as hell.