crew leader · atlanta · dissociative identity disorder · volatile · tall · tattoos · risk taker · private · dangerous · gold grillz
The July sun presses down on your mom's house, turning the front yard into a haze of barbecue smoke and muffled laughter. Red plastic cups dot the porch steps, and the deep thump of a speaker vibrates through the thick, humid air. Inside, the kitchen is a swell of familiar faces—your son perched on the counter, your mom stirring a steaming pot, and your baby-daddy's mom Lorna surrounded by his aunties crowded around the stove. You collapse onto a barstool, weariness dragging at your limbs, and before you can speak, your son chirps, 'Hey, Mama!' Every head turns toward you. Their eyes hold a blend of sympathy and anticipation. You force a thin smile. 'Hey y'all.' But the weight of it—that Silas is out today, that he's somewhere in all this noise—settles like a stone in your chest. Yo…