Sipfly sat in his new BMW X6, in his right hand his gun.
On the back seat laid the plastic bag with 30 000 € in cash.
Next to it the flyer for Bodrey’s funeral.
When and how will his life find an end?
Sipfly remembered Bodrey’s last birthday party.
3 weeks ago they had been at his place with their girls, some joints, and a couple of bottles of rum.
Business boomed, there were no fights with other groups, he had not killed someone.
Who would come to his funeral?
What if he died tomorrow?
Would his mother come?
His brother?
Probably not.
He had not talked either to his mom nor his brother in weeks.
He sent checks; his bank told him that they never got cashed.
His mom and his brother did not want his drug money.
The last time he saw his mother, he went to his hood to show off his BMW X6.
His mother stood at the door in front her block. The kids from the neighborhood ran to welcome her son and especially his new car.
‘Man Sipfly lit whip. How many horsepower?’ asked one of the boys.
‘Shut the fuck up, you gotta a TV in your trunk?!?’ said another one.
Sipfly smiled, nodded and said: ‘389 hp. Next week, I gonna tune it to 445.’
‘Sipfly, you made it.’
Sipfly’s mom knew her son. She knew he felt great. He finally drove his dream car and gained recognition.
The kids continued to ask questions, admiring the car and its features. Sipfly enjoyed it but ended the discussion.
‘ Check out all by yourself.’
He threw the car keys to Spencer, a 14-year-old boy from the hood. When Sipfly lived in the hood, he had shown Spencer a lot. He was like his younger brother. With a bright smile, Siplfy turned around and went to his mom.
His mom had no smile on her face. She was serious.
‘All this because of your drug money? You’re happy now?’
Sipfly’s smile was gone. ‘At least I have a car.
At least I have fresh new cloth and don’t have to live in the hood anymore.
With all those unemployed, lazy suckers. All those junkies. And –‘
‘You produce junkies!’
His mother became angry. She stood up and came to her son.
She looked him right in the eyes. Tears ran down her face.
She wasn’t sad. She felt energetic. She felt anger.
She bit her teeth; her face turned red.
‘I don’t force no one!’ her son said.
‘You, you may not force someone. But you sell the shit!’
‘Yeah, I sell it. But they buy it; they take it, they take the decision. If they wouldn’t buy from me, they would go to another one. Why shouldn’t I be the one who makes money?’ He smirked. ‘Why shouldn’t I be the one who makes a lot of money?’
A second later his smirk was erased by the right hand of his mom. She had used all her energy to slap him in the face.
‘Get the fuck out of here! I am disgusted at you, son.’
Sipflys mother turned around and entered her block. She did not look back.
To her Sipfly was dead. The door clunked shoot.
Sipfly could not move. He was shocked. His cheek hurt. His mom had never beaten him.
He had not seen her this angry. Did he lose her?
Behind Sipfly, the crowd of kids from the neighborhood continued to admire his BMW. Spencer sat in the car and moved his head to the beat of 50 Cents ‘In my hood.’
Sipfly went to his BMW. From a few meter distance, he shouted: ‘Get the fuck out of my car!’
The boys looked surprised. Spencer got the message and got out. With someone from the hood, who can buy such a car, you better don’t argue.
Sipfly opened the door and sat down.
His mom definitely would not come to his funeral. To her, he was dead already.
That was not the way he wanted to die. He put the gun into the glove box and tipped ‘Mother Mercy Hospital’ in his navigation system.
15 minutes later he stood in front of the building in which his friend Bodrey died.
The same place where all the reanimations could not save Wright’s life.
Wright’s 18-year-old body could not handle the three bullets it received by Sipfly’s gun.
Sipfly entered the hospital and asked the lady at the reception where he could find the manager. The lady showed him the way and soon knocked on the manager’s door. The manager asked them in.
Sipfly pulled out a plastic bag and laid it in front of the manager on the table.
‘Here you have 30 k in cash. Do with it what you want. Open a library, buy toys for the children’s medical unit, do research, whatever you want. Just make sure Bodrey and Wright will show up as the program’s credit.’
Sipfly left without waiting for a response. He got back to his BMW and drove to the car seller where he had bought his dream car. When he arrived, the car seller recognized him and welcomed him friendly.
‘Hey Sifply, which car you gonna buy today? I got a new hot, hot Mercedes!’
‘No thanks, ain’t here to buy something. Just give me 10 k and this old, blue Hyundai. In return, you get my whip.’
Sipfly gave him the BMW keys.
‘What?’ The car seller could not believe it.
‘Just do so.’ Sipfly replied.
A minute later, Sipfly sat in the old Hyundai and drove to the supermarket.
There he got three big bags. At home, he filled the bags with his designer cloth and got back into the Hyundai to drive to his old hood.
The kids from the block stood around Sipfly’s car and laughed.
‘Sipfly, what the hell is this? You stole your grandma’s car?’
Sipfly opened the trunk, opened the three bags and showed them the designer cloth.
‘Take what you need.’
He turned around and went to the house where he used to live. His mom stood at the door.
Tears rolled down her eyes, a big smile on her mouth.
‘Jack, my son… You are back!’
