XXX Underground Playgrounds: La La's Story (5 page)

Tara slowly lifted her body up from the chair, motion for Jah to give her the video. She broke it in pieces over the garbage can; she walked out of Jah’s office with nothing left to be said or how it was going to go down. She was just going to make sure she was ready when it does.

She went back to the hotel suite Bone put her and China in; China was not there, and readily Tara took her clothes off in the middle of the room. She walked over to their bar naked and poured a glass of Scotch, looking in the mirror behind the bar she saw herself crying; she was too traumatized to know even she was crying. She downed her drink and poured another as she walked to their Jacuzzi adorned bathroom.

She stepped over to her IPod and pushed play, starting the Jacuzzi she poured the bottle of scotch and honey bubble bath cleanser into her water. The World's an Addiction by Nas and Anthony Hamilton finally came through the speakers, as she lowered herself into the hot alcohol infested bubble bath. In her mind the Scotch will cleanse her; it will renew her from that night. Only her mind, could not stop haunting her, visions of her parents and her friends’ parents doing unthinkable things to her, made her scrub her body violently with the combination of Scotch and honey.

She dunked her head under the water, and a million thoughts were rapidly entering her cleansing process.

What type of shit was going on in their high-class society, was this the price her parents had to pay to be wealthy, a Japanese immigrant and a Black woman fitting into White society where you sacrifice your child to sexually sadistic acts.  Who idea was it her step-father’s or mother, had to be her step-father because they were introduced into that community by him.

Did he have his biological daughter sacrificed? Had to, because once she was 18 she fled to college and never came back. She never understood as to why her step-father made sure her bank account was full if she disowned him. She never heard her discuss her except when he found out she was killed in a drive-by while she was in college. After the funeral, she remembers all her step-sister’s things were boxed up in their living room. 

Tara found a note from her step-sister addressed to her, she guesses she never got the chance to mail it. All she could read before her step-father pulled it out of her hand was “Watch the in-house devils around you masked with rich and smiling faces. Watch what you eat and drink.”

If hindsight were 20/20, she would have deciphered what she wrote and heeded her warning. But to her thirteen-year-old mind, she was thinking it was some Religious and diet tips she was trying to give her. 

Coming up for air, eyes burning from the Scotch and her state of mind lost in a fog of revenge. Tara ended her cleansing with Eminem and Lil Wayne's’ No Love, and that is just what was entering her mind. She had no love for her dead parents; she had no love for her friends’ parents or her teachers. Any and everyone who was in that room or associated with it must perish. In her head, that was the only way she will be truly clean is with their blood.

Ghost

“Noooooooo, she screamed out of her sleep. Breaking out in a cold sweat, she hurriedly surveyed her surroundings. Her pale skin was paler than usual; her bright blue eyes were now dull and red. The same dream hunted her, or should she say memory.

The memory of getting beaten and then forced at gunpoint to smoke crack by someone she loved, chained by someone she damn near worshiped, and made into a slave. His slave, it was not enough for him to have her as his girlfriend, it was not sufficient for him to have her heart, it wasn’t enough for him to have her mind, he had to conquer and destroy her soul also.  He had to control her and what better way to do it then with a controlled substance. Crack!!!!!

Desperately running towards the bathroom to cleanse her of the nightmare she once lived. Scolding hot water cascaded over her skin, as she used the cloth to scrub soap into her skin. Think of something good, she willed herself. Think of someone who wants to see you survive. Think of Miss Emma, she conjured up her smiling brown face and a sense of peace came over her.

In the distance, she heard her cell ring, the sound of the ringtone she rushed out of the tub to answer it, “Hello!”

“Why are you so out of breath?” the caller laughed.

“I almost busted my ass running to the phone.” Ghost smiled.

“What ass?” the female replied.

“Tis white girl got dunky bootie,” Ghost told her in a fake Jamaican accent while she starts clapping her ass and twerking in her mirror.

“Your ass is twerking, aren’t you?”  She laughed. She knew her friend all too well.

“And you know thissssssssss mannnn!” Ghost laughed into the phone.

“Good, so you will not mind going where I need you to go.” No laughter was in her voice now. It was all business as she continued, “The Underground Playgrounds is where you need to be. MG will direct you to where you need to audition. When you meet, Bone and Vega tell them who sent you. Understand?”

“All good.” 

“Thank you, once again Ghost. “

“No, thank you. We are killing two birds with one stone.”

“Enough said. I’m done” she said

“Two fingers,” Ghost replied and hit the end button.

Her phone rung was indicating that she had a text. It read, “Stop twerking, no ass and change your look up. Lol”

Ghost smiled and continued to twerk her ass in the mirror, “Shit, P tripping, my ass is gone with the wind fabulous.” She laughed as she twirled around like Kenya Moore.

Hours later

Ghost looked at herself in the mirror as she put her green contacts in her eyes. She had transformed herself into someone she didn’t even recognize, but she looked damn good. Her once bleached blond hair was now a golden blond, her skin was tanned to a natural looking pigment, and her green eyes sat her new look off.  Her mind wondered to the timid blue eyed white girl she used to be before she became the only white girl in a predominately black neighborhood.

The kick in the door came abruptly; she flew under the bed as her mother directed her too. Gunshots rang throughout their mobile home; screams were echoing off the walls, frightening a young Ghost to tears. Covering her mouth so her screams will not alert the intruders, her whole body shook out of fear. She heard bullets fly into the room she was hiding in breaking lamps, piercing the walls above her head, bullets flying through the door of her room.  The ten-year-old went into the fetal position, still in fear, still shaking and still covering her mouth full of screams.

Where once chaos stood, quietness took over; the aftermath of a bloody peaceful mess was left. The bullets ceased, and the voices of the intruders took over.  Sensing their distraction, she crept to the bullet holes in the door to look out. Two white men had her father on his knees with a gun in his mouth, pulling his head back by his long ponytail towering over him as if they were more powerful, mightier, more deserving than him. Ghost studied their faces; it was etched, damned near fused in her mind. 

Her eyes scanned the room looking for her mother; she was sprawled out on the kitchen floor lifeless. She almost let out a whimper, a mere sound that could have ended her life.

They did not spare her father’s life as she had hoped; she looked on as one man let her dad’s hair loose, only for the second man to put a hole in his head.  Satisfied that they had accomplished what they had come for, they exited the shattered home.

Noises outside of the home made her run back under the bed. Hammering was being done outside of her home; she peeked out from under the bed only to watch one of the killers board up her window. This act was done to every window from the outside until the house was airtight, she and the decaying bodies of her parents were preserved in the big rectangle box on six acres of farmland.

Ghost was imprisoned for days with her parents, the smell, oh my God; the smell in that house was unbearable. The turning of the knob was her life saver; there stood Miss Emma, speechless and waiting for her with open arms.

She had no clue how Miss Emma knew to come, but she was thankful. Therefore, she did not utter not one question to the sweet lady who sometimes came to visit mommy and daddy. She flew into her arms and never looked back.

That was until she met Miss Emma’s son, eight years her senior. Miss Emma’s son was doing a little time for selling drugs when Miss Emma rescued her from that bloody box of death. She should have heeded Miss Emma’s warnings and pleads that was against the feelings her son had for Ghost. 

He was damn near a grown ass man taking a liking to a child. He never touched her at first just showered her with everything as if she was his, not his sister, not his play sister and not even his woman but HIS.

Ghost thought she would have problems being the only white girl in the hood, especially when she developed a natural swag from the hood and she had no idea where she got this curvaceous body from, but she was happy her ass could compete with the other girls.  She did not encounter any problems because of the family she was living with, that shit went over her head for a long time. But, soon she found out a lot more than she wanted to about the sweet lady that came to visit her parent’s every week.

Her sixteenth birthday was the night that twenty-four-year-old Jerome took her virginity. It was her sixteenth birthday when Jerome took over her life.  She was nineteen when he put the gun to her head and made her smoke a crack pipe. 

The Crack Pipe night

Ghost had been hearing about Jerome’s extreme love for women, high priced strippers, call girls and sack chasers. Jerome enjoyed paying for a bitch because he felt he was always in control if he paid the cost to be the boss. Jerome money was starting to accumulate because of Ghost; she gave him the idea of catering to everyone’s addiction. Instead of dealing just crack, he dabbled in everything from prescription drugs to heroin. 

Even though he cheated on her daily, he loved her, he was obsessed with Ghost, her haunting blues eyes, white-blond hair, pouty lips and her innocence bewildered him into feelings he never had for anyone.

He molded her into what he wanted in a woman, obedient, non-nagging, naïve, quick to please him and gave him anything he desired. She took a blind eye to any nigga looking her way, even when she was in school with boys her age.  Jerome had kept close tabs on her; she always knew who owned her and that was the way he liked it.

“So, fucking what!” Jerome said as he popped whatever pill it was, that he washed down with a bottle of Vodka.  Ghost watched him in awe as he walked around her tied up body.  Some of his friends were around the table playing cards, drunk or high, or both laughing at Jerome’s belittlement of Ghost. She had left him for a couple of days after she found him getting his dick sucked by some random chick on the side of their house.  He hunted her down and dragged her back home, tied her to a chair and was now voicing that he did not give a fuck that she was at his mom’s house.

She had been tied up to the chair since last night, fear of last night haunting her as she gazed off into its memory.

Jerome pointed the gun at her head, “Suck it. Suck it. Suck it like your life depends on it.” He yanked her by her hair, “And believes me it does.” He added

He took his hand and wiped a tear from her face, “Oh don’t cry, baby. You did not think about crying when you stayed away from home for two days. Now, since you feel the need to be disobedient. I feel the need to make you want to be obedient. I feel the need for you to suck your way back into obedience.” He cocked the gun and with a sinister growl he ordered, now suck it!”

Tears slid down her face as she saw the evilness in his eyes. She flicked the Bic lighter under the glass dick, and she sucked on it because her life did depend on it.   He made her do that all night; it alternated between sucking his cock and sucking the glass dick all night. Her mouth was sore.

She jumped out of her memory back into more misery. 

“You want to jump ship, cause a nigga needed his dick sucked. What was I supposed to wait for your white ass to get home from school? You want to see how a nigga really gets down! I pay for bitches to do what I tell them with no back talk. “He told her as he motioned for his boys to let the hos in the living room. 

He usually waited for this part of the activities, until Ghost were upstairs asleep. He would forbid her to come downstairs while his partners were there.  But, now he wanted to show her he could do what the fuck he wanted to do and dare her to say something.

He might not be paying Ghost directly for sex, but he was taking care of her that was cause enough for her to shut the fuck up and take whatever shit he slung her way. Tied up in the middle of the floor to a chair Ghost was stripped naked by paid hookers in front of an audience of men and the man whom she thought loved her. 

Jerome untied Ghost’s legs; he instructed the hookers to get naked, “You, he pointed to the cute yellow girl with the big titties, straddle her.” She strutted over towards Ghost still wearing her black heels and straddled her, making sure she rubbed her pussy up against Ghost. Ghost felt betrayed by the sensation that caused between her legs.

“Yeah, just like that! Now, make her suck your titties. Don’t worry she has no choice but to play along or she knows what she will get or won’t get. “He laughed.  The room was clueless, but Ghost knew all too well what he was referring to.  Ghost pulled the girl’s nipple in her mouth and sucked on them like her life depended on it.