𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐓 ⁿᵒᵗᵗⁱ ᵒˢᵃᵐᵃ|DISCONTINUED

𝟏𝟓𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

ETHAN REYES
HARLEM, NYC
A month later... MAY 12

"What do you love in life?" Ethan vividly remembers the question being asked while he was in jail by the therapist he was ordered to visit every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. He remembers always giving her the same question. "My family" there was no doubt in his mind.

"What do you love about them?" Was always the follow-up question and he said his usual. "I love how close-knit we are. Like we can talk to each other bout anything."

The lady always hummed, expecting that answer from him. "Any motivation?"

Ethan always got a heavy sense of Deja Vu when she asked these questions. It was always like he heard it before. Like he's sat in the same rickety old chair inside the room that reeked of mildew and bleach. He felt like he felt that same cold breeze across his shoulders that escaped underneath the thin prison uniform. He remembers the sweat that caused his forehead to glisten as his anxiety rose at the questions.

"Motivation? Nah" he replied confidently, shaking his head as he actually thought about the question.

Motivation...

"Wait yeah. Like my peoples and shit."

The lady fought the urge to roll her eyes as Ethan mentioned his family for the 100,000th time. It seemed as though his only drive was family. He did nothing for himself, or with himself in mind.

"Well, let's try a different approach" the woman muttered to herself, flipping to the next page in her little notebook to take notes on Ethan. "When you get older, do you plan on having a family of your own?" She asked.

Ethan lit up at the question, nodding his head quickly as he sat up. The lady finally smiled at the reaction. "Tell me about your dream family" she spoke.

He couldn't help but smile as he imagined his dream family. He'd planned it out so many times in his head. He even envisioned it before he went to sleep.

Suddenly, the smell of outdoor barbecue filled his senses, and he was no longer in a cold prison office. He was no longer cold or agitated.  No longer wearing the ugly prison clothing. The sun beamed on his face as he observed his surroundings. He was in Harlem, outside his old house.

He analyzed the busy groups of people outside, spotting his favorite faces. Justin, Darrien, and David stood huddled around the big grill with sweaty, concentrated faces as Justin used the tongs to flip the meat. He laughed as Darrien flinched from the heat, and David fussed at Justin for whatever.

Edot was sitting on a stoop sipping a caprison with their friend Dee. Keem and Quan were dance battling some little kids. His mother and Melz stop talking to some older ladies who lived on the block. Kids were in every corner.

Amiri was playing tag with some kids. It was all weird because everyone looked way older. Darrien hovered over both Justin and David with a thin mustache growing in and his hair was touching the middle of his back. David's small fro was now hanging down his shoulders and he had tattoos on his arms. Justin had shoulder-length locs. Amiri looked about 6 or 7.

Everyone was there except for Dotty. He found himself turning in a circle over and over again as he analyzed the scene. Nobody seemed to recognize his presence, or maybe they didn't care. Everyone felt like a distant memory to him, he didn't even know who to talk to first.