"When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things."

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔

I almost blow our cover and tackle Beck as he reaches behind Morgan's back. He's relishing in this, the fact that he thinks he's about to have her body and me not do anything about it.

Satisfaction is an understatement to describe what I feel when Morgan drives her pocketknife through Beck's back.

He screams in agony, falling over and whaling in pain. If I could, I'd stay back and indulge in this, but I can't.

"Run!" Morgan yells, collecting her things so we can leave.

I'm right behind her, being sure that Beck's locked inside and can't get out.

He stands weakly and pounds his palms on the glass window.

"Too slow." I taunt him before Morgan pulls me away by my arm.

The lights are green but we can still see the way out. It's a straight shot to the stairs that lead out of here.

We hurry up them but Morgan struggles to lift the hatch.

She struggles. "It's stuck!"

"Let me try." I insist, pulling her body out of the way.

I push, pull, twist, and bang and then finally, it lets up.

Only, Morgan or myself didn't loosen it, the lever turns and opens due to someone on the outside trying to get in.

The heavyset woman from before, the store clerk and snd Beck's mother apparently, screams when she sees me step out of the bunker.

Cold winds smack me in the face but I push past the temperature with more important things at hand.

The woman faints.

Well, that was easy.

I step over her body to help Morgan out of the ground.

"There," Morgan points to the store. "the church is this way!"

As we run in the direction of the store, fighting against the blistering winds, I find my belongings scattered across the snow-coated ground.

My wallet, my keys, my coat. Each item, I pick up and stuff in my pockets. I slip my arms into my black version of the Helly Hansen coat that matches Morgan's. The warmth allows me to keep going.

We hear gunshots down the road and duck behind a dumpster.

Morgan gasps. "Yara and Nick."

I sure hope that's not them on the other side of the bullets.

"Come on." I whisper, sneaking around the back of the convenience store - Jordan's Market.

"I meant what I said back there, Morgan." I tell her.

"What?"

"I'm sorry. This really is all my fault. I know you won't leave me, but you don't deserve to live like this."

"It's kind of exciting." She shrugs.

I'm confused. "Being in danger?"

"No, being right all the time." She says and punches me in the arm.

"Ow," I wince. "When did you get so aggressive?"

"I just feel like you deserved that, and a few more."

"Please don't, I'm sorry. I'm also scared of you, you just stabbed someone."

"I know," she fears, "you think he'll be okay?"

I sigh. "Unfortunately."

Morgan continues to crouch down and move stealthily. "I only stabbed him for you."

"Aww." My sarcasm isn't lost on Morgan.

I tell her, "I could've taken him."

She puts her hand to my chest. "If you tried, he would've shot you. You may have a death wish, but I don't plan on attending another funeral any time soon. We're a team, you got that?"

"Yes, ma'am..." I back off, smirking. "Is it wrong that I find you very sexy right now?"

Morgan looks back at me, shaking her head, but she smiles.

A few trucks riding by makes Morgan and I hide again, this time behind an old pick-up.

We wait it out for a while before continuing.

"Come on," Morgan whispers, "the church is right across the street."

We look both ways before crossing the road.

"I got your back." I tell Morgan, looking over my shoulders.

A smile forms on her face that I get lost in for a second, forgetting the danger we're in. Her sweet face is a reminder that I need to get us out of this.
She takes my hand and we run towards the old church.

The front doors are locked, setting us back.

"Try the windows." I share my idea out loud and start to act on it.

"They're frozen!" Morgan grunts, unable to lift one.

The third window I try, lifts an inch. I know if it budged that much, I can loosen it up some more.

Finally, I get it open just enough that it'll fit Morgan's body.

I whistle at her and she stops, lifting an eyebrow.

"I know you didn't." She sasses me.

"I'm sorry," I show grace and correct myself. "Can you please shimmy your little ass through this window?"

"My ass isn't that little." She mumbles, removing her coat so that she can fit.

"It's not, but you weigh sixty pounds, so." I tell her, pushing her body through the slit.

Morgan drops in and then comes around to open the front door and let me in.

Teamwork.

Once inside, I take the knife from Morgan seeing as though that's the only weapon we have.

She might've held her own with Beck, letting us escape, but I don't want to burden her with having to use it on someone again.

We lock all doors and windows, keeping the lights off, and hide in the back. I board the two other entrances and then raid the kitchen after relieving myself in the men's bathroom.

When I see a box of strawberry Poptarts, my eyes light up with nostalgia.

Except, the box, when I open it, is full of roaches.

Morgan covers her mouth to avoid screaming as she points to rats crawling around my feet.

I am disgusted.

I help her down from the table and put her on my back so we can leave the kitchen and find somewhere else to hide.

In the pastor's office, we see it belongs to a Matt R. Mullins.

"Everything in here is so old. Dusty..." Morgan comments, looking around.

"Looks like people haven't been here in ages." I add, dusting off an old Bible.

"Look." Morgan grabs my attention, showing me a wall album. The photos on the wall include old Polaroids and news articles. One, in particular, is a family photo. In it, Marissa (Sabrina) Mullins herself with Pastor Matt and his late wife - so says the article.

I look away, unfazed, sitting on the plastic-wrapped couch.

Morgan hesitates to sit beside me.

"We shouldn't have left Cleo." She vents.

I'm shocked to hear this. "I thought you wanted her dead?"

"I was angry, I still am, but I don't want her to die. Not like that, in there."

I agree, rubbing her back for support. "She made her choice."

Morgan hesitates but asks me anyway, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Can you just see where Jasmine is now?" I change the subject.

Morgan sighs, pulling her iPhone from her bag. She shows me that it's dead.

Fuck.

"That's okay," I tell her, "we're safe here—"

I can't finish my sentence because I hear glass shattering outside of the office.

"YEE YEE YEE!" I hear banshee calls much like the ones of those men that night that they tried to burn The Adams's barn down.

"Get down." I instruct Morgan. She does so quickly and covers her mouth to stay quiet.

I don't know how many of them they are, where they are, or if they're coming in.
What I do see is a shadow outside of the window and then it's busted with a brick.

Suddenly, torches are thrown inside with cloth that's soaked in gasoline.

I grab Morgan and flee the burning office.

We leave our coats behind, just running anywhere we find safe.

Fires have broken out all around us, though, we don't know which way to turn. The already weak structures supporting the building fall and collapse around us.

Smoke rises, making us choke.

Soon enough, I can hardly see.

I run to the exit but the doors and handles are hot, of course.

"Shit!" I yell, covering my nose and mouth with my shirt.

Morgan sees stairs and runs towards them, seeing as though we can't escape through the windows or doors. I know it's not safe, heat rises, but what choice do we have?

I follow her up them but the second floor isn't safe, either. So we continue up another two flight of stairs, this only leads us to the roof, though.

I look around for answers. None are clear to me.

We can't call for help because who would come? More of those rednecks?

I reach for the door to go back down but someone instead walks through it.

It's Cleo.

She falls down, though, and Beck stands there, with a gun pointed at us.

He spits out blood by my feet.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't shoot you both right now." He thinks we're going to beg.

Morgan and I step backwards until she almost falls. It's a long way down.

I pull her back to safety and stand in front of her body.

"Move." Beck insists. "I want you to watch as I fuck her."

I don't let him get another word out or bring his lips into a full self-satisfied smile, lunging towards him.

Beck falls under my tackle and he's victim to each of my fatal blows.

The gun flies out of his hands and I crawl to get it.

Beck pulls me by my foot and scurries to get the weapon, but Cleo picks it up instead.

"Atta girl." Beck cackles, standing.

She points it at my head and I put my hands up.

"Now that I think about it," Beck says, "I'll just kill you now. Any last words to say to him, Morgan?"

"Fuck you." She says to Beck.

"Later." He laughs, pulling the trigger.

I'm dead. I have to be— wait, am I?

No.

"Huh?" Beck looks astounded. He pulls the trigger again but there are no bullets.

"Ha!" Cleo rejoices out of no where, chucking the bullets she's taken from the gun, over the fire.

"You fool, I'll kill you." Beck's feet suddenly have springs in them, leaping towards Cleo.

I already want to hurt him, watching him put his hands on Cleo is just another reason to.

But I have to step with caution, the roof is about to cave in like the rest of the building.

Watching them tussle, my eyes pan to a nearby tree. It's tall, strong, and supportive. More importantly, we can reach it from here if we just jump.

Morgan's eyes turn from wary to instinctual in a split second, watching me shift my eyes and allude to the tree.

Slowly, we inch towards that tree, around the fight, and ignore the weaker areas of the roof that are about to collapse with the fire.

My main priority is getting Morgan to safety. Once I can assure she's on that true and out of Beck's way, then I can save Cleo.

Only, I can't talk Morgan into making the vault fast enough. As I'm trying to assure Morgan she can, in fact, make the jump safely, the sound of Cleo's body falling down onto the pavement causes me to turn and see Beck keeping his backhand strong.
He's just slapped her. This is more than the elementary wrestling they were just doing. He hit a woman, and I won't stand for it.

I grab the [Morgan's] pink folding fruit knife from my pocket and open it, locking eyes on my target.

Beck dares me to come at him and I do not hesitate to oblige, skipping to him gladly with the knife in my right hand since it's stronger so I'll be able to control it better while throwing punches with my left.

As I maneuverer around the enflamed debris, the door suddenly busts open.

It's Marissa [Sabrina.]

She rips a duffel bag off of her shoulder and drops it at Beck's feet, then starts to shuffle around the wall of flames.

"It's done, Beck," she shouts, out of breath. "there's twenty-thousand right there; I'm taking my sister, and we're leaving. And you're going to leave Chris... and his fiancé alone."

"Where's the rest of it?" Beck raises his voice, frantically digging through the black bag.

"Where you always kept it: in marked green trash bags in the dumpster." I make a mental note of the information Marissa's just offered.

"Sabrina?" Cleo's weak voice manages to have some volume to it after getting the piss beat out of her.

Marissa looks up at me as if to silently ask for help, picking Cleo up, and I nod my head before bending over to do so.

Cleo coughs, draping her boney arms over my shoulders and Marissa's.

"We're going to get you out of here." Marissa assured her sister.

"Where are we going?" Asks Cleo.

Marissa, tells her, "To a better place..."

"LOOK OUT!" Morgan suddenly sounds an alarm.

I'm quick enough to push Cleo's body away from mine and dodge Beck's spiteful swing.

He grabs Marissa instead and starts to drag her by her hair.

I'd help, but I'm more concerned in helping Cleo get out of here. She's the least likely to make it out of here on her own, I think.

"Come on." I grunt, trying to help her thin, smelly body off of the ground.

As soon as I bring her to her feet, though, she springs off of them and jumps onto Beck's back.

"DON'T TOUCH MY SISTER!" She screams, elbowing him repeatedly between his neck and shoulder.

"Psst," Morgan's whispering gets my attention. I snap my neck in her direction. "Chris!"

She alludes her eyes to the hole that's opened up under our feet. My lips part in distress.

Carefully, I step back near the edge, trying to coach Marissa and Cleo to knock this motherfucker out already so they can move towards safety.

It's Marissa who breaks free from Beck first and stumbles backward, wiping the blood from her mouth and nose.

"Marissa, here!" I shout, throwing the closed pocket knife into her hands.

She opens the blade and charges at Beck with a battle cry.

"AUGHHH!" Beck howls. With the blade in his chest, he misses his footing, gasping for air to live.

An unexpected explosion causes another crack in the roof and the whole far side caves in, crumbling to the ground before our eyes, putting Beck out of his misery.

Unfortunately, Cleo went with him.

"CLEO, NO!" Marissa cries out, dropping to her knees to grieve.

I can't believe it, and I saw it with my own eyes. It happened so fast. . .

A thunderous rumbling sound shakes Marissa out of her panic.

"Jump," I shout. "I got you!"

Her eyes, even from several feet away, look hopeless.

"How can I know you'll catch me?" She pleads, rocking side-to-side on the edge.

"Marissa, you have to jump NOW!" I stress, stretching my arms.

She swallows hard, nodding her head, once the severity of this situation hits her. It's life or death, and after witnessing the way Cleo just went out - I think she chooses life.

There's not much time, Morgan starts screaming at me to join her in the tree so I start yelling at Marissa, rushing her to just run and jump.

Finally, Marissa gets a running start and then lunges in the air to the last bit of the platform still standing.

She hardly makes it, falling to the edge.

"Chris," she struggles, "help me."

"CHRIS, COME ON NOW! RIGHT NOW!" Morgan fumes. She's in the tree, standing, holding on to a branch with one arm, the other desperately waving me over.

It's just like Malcolm, the way he hung there, begging for me to give him grace; his life was in my hands and I wanted to let him go.

Unlike Malcolm, though, I pause on Marissa with some hope that there's humanity to her somewhere deep inside.

My shadow dawns over Marissa as I kneel before her, taking another look below us to realize that long, long way down.

The memory of meeting Sabrina (Marissa) hits me over the head.
I recall her keeping me in the elevator with Shawn Bowie, manipulating me into being somewhat nice to her just to get on his good side, and eventually (unfortunately) into her bed.

I remember... hearing Morgan's voice on the phone after our breakup, for the first time in I don't know how long, and Marissa coming along to ruin that. That's all she does is ruin things. She's cancerous, and there's no cure for that.

Morgan and I tried to believe that she would leave us alone and change. She didn't. And I'm not going to be responsible for letting her continue to terrorize me, my fiancé, or anyone else ever.

But I'm not God, so I won't pretend to be and interfere with her fate.

In fact, I nearly save Marissa, but the thought that this could only further her obsession with me— having to feel as if she owes me and then won't be able to leave me alone— makes me sick to my stomach.

No goodbyes need to be said. I stand and release a breath. It's one of solace.

This isn't the part in the movies where the protagonist exercises their good, pure heart and try to help the villain escape/survive.

I have in every way cleansed myself of Sabrina, and I won't be made to feel ashamed for this because it feels so damn good.

Her last words— my name— are screamed as she plummets to her demise.

You know, I really have been trying to be more optimistic. Maybe now isn't the time to say it, but at least she'll be with her "sister."

I jump onto the tree and squeeze Morgan's body for warmth and consolation.

"It's done?" Her voice cracks.

I nod my head on her shoulder.

"Finally." She exhales.

I almost find myself feeling bad, for not feeling bad about Beck, Marissa, or even Cleo, but that all goes away with the pure look of relief that inhabits Morgan.

We did it.

"We don't have to talk about it," Morgan says.

"Good," I mumble, sitting on the branch that supports our weight.

"But I want us to talk to someone." Morgan adds firmly, sitting beside me.

I know that means therapy of some sort. Honestly, I feel like I've managed all of this pretty well; since Beck and Sabrina were my biggest conflicts in life and they're gone, now I don't believe I'll have any problems.

"We can't sit here much longer," I cough, "the fire's getting pretty bad, we have to get down somehow."

"Look!" Morgan exclaims, jumping onto her feet.

She excitedly waves a car in. Not just any car, though, it's Jasmine's.

"Oh, thank God." I groan, tossing my head back.

The door slams and damn near our whole community hops out of the SUV.

"Aye," Trey's voice is the last one I expected to hear. "what y'all doin' in a tree, ain't anybody tell y'all it's a fire going on?" He makes us laugh.

Trey follows his sister, Lee, and Jabari over to the tree. They avoid the fire and wave at us, staring up.

"Morgan and Chris, sitting in a tree," Jabari sings, "K-I-S-S-I-N-G."

"Man, shut the hell up and get us down from here!" I yell down at him.

Another truck pulls up and Morgan gasps, grabbing onto my for dear life. Poor thing is so scared that this isn't over. Our friends, the same way.

Trey, J, and Lee all position themselves with guns and Jasmine stands behind them, unfazed, knowing she won't get touched.

The doors slam and two people pop out.

Masked figures of a man and woman's body walk in front of Trey, Lee, JB, and Jasmine. Despite the moment being so tense, the two people drop all weapons and reveal their faces.

Morgan let's out a sigh and removes her nails from digging in my arm. "It's just Yara and Nick." She projects her voice to assure everyone. Phew.

Nick looks up at Morgan and I still in the goddamn tree, and flails his arms. "Y'all look like you could use a ladder."

~

"— I can't thank you enough." I slide palms with Nick Adams and bump his chest lightly in a small hug.

"You don't have to," he says, wearing his smile to the side. "I'm glad y'all are safe, that's all that matters."

Morgan shakes her head, still in disbelief. "I really thought you guys were-"

"Dead?" Yara laughs, flicking her wrist. "Beck's goons tried to scare us again, but we did what we had to do. Only thing left is to burn this old corner store down."

Morgan gives Yara a big hug. Seems like we all could use one.

"May I cut in?" Jabari asks to steal Morgan and I from the couple.

JB does his famous stutter-laugh and squeezes my shoulders as we over the snow, towards the dumpster where Lee, Trey, and Jasmine are standing.

"Y'all just had to have all the fun without me?" He makes us laugh and I appreciate that at a time like this.

"If someone didn't run on CP time..." I joke with Jasmine. Colored people time, AKA "CPT" is an epidemic that's caused by brother, JB, and his wife to be late to all scheduled date/games nights and other functions.

She drops her jaw, playfully offended. "The Hood Avengers took a little while to assemble." Her name for us makes me laugh through my nose.

"Nah," Jabari wets his lips, standing over me. "I prayed that y'all would be alright. I'm glad God ain't let me down." Me too.

"Trey." I greet him as enthused as I can be, with a dap.

He brings me into his body and pushes my head in. "I came as soon as I heard; you know I ride for you and lil' sis."

Morgan fist-pounds Trey's dark knuckles and smiles softly, trying to warm up with the throw blanket Jasmine's provided her.

"The cops gotta be on they way by now." Jabari shakes his head, pacing.

"What we finna do?" Trey looks to me for answers.

"Yeah," Lee comments, "we're going to need to have our stories together."

Something during all of that chatter, made me remember a mental note I pinned earlier - Beck's money. It's too late for the twenty-thousand he took to hell with him, but I recollect where Sabrina said she's left it.

"Excuse me." I gently push everyone out of the way so I can take a look for myself first.

I hesitate to open the lid on the dumpster, thinking this is just too easy. Perhaps, a test from God. However, I did pray to him, and if he's real, after all this turmoil he's put me through, he'll bless me for overcoming.

Morgan stands by my side as I open the dumpster to at least seven large green trash bags, just like Marissa said.

I pull one out and drop it in the middle of the circle our friends has formed around us.

"Yo, CV, you playin' with trash right now?" Jabari cracks up the group, except for myself as I focus on ripping this bag open.
Once I finally do, though, money comes spilling out. Just like Marissa said.

"Oh shit." Trey murmurs, almost speechless.

My disbelief, or shock, comes out in the form of a chuckle. "It's pay day," I say, and start to throw a trash bag at everyone's chest. Even Morgan's.

"You want me to hold onto this? I do have a wedding to pay for..." I kid with her.

She jokingly pushes me in my chest. "We have a wedding to pay for."

"That's crazy." Jabari chokes, counting all the money.  "Y'all can have a destination wedding for all I care, we rich!"

"It's a Christmas miracle!" Jasmine declares, throwing her hands in the air.

"Amen." Trey rejoices, with closed eyes, raising his hands in the air to shake them in subtle praise.

"Well, ho, ho, ho." Jabari grins, fanning himself with a small stack of hundred-dollar bills.

Lee finishes relishing in his new found savings (or spendings) and stuffs it back into the bag. He sniffs through his big, red nose and rolls his neck at me.
"So," he wonders, "what's our story?"

"Simple," I rub my hands together to break it down. "we're going to tell them that. . ."