Somebody call me an angel...on speed dial

Merry Christmas! I don't think it was any accident that Christmas is so close to the end of the year....it's a time when we feel reflective and contemplative on where we are in our lives and where we stand with the people in them. I had a dream a night or two ago that I passed away. Didn't think anything about it because sometimes I get those questions in my head but yesterday...yesterday was scary.

I'm a Brooklyn girl with a mama who raised me to be a good girl. I do what mama says (for the most part), get good grades in school, act responsibly, a good girl. And sometimes good girls get bitten by the bad bug. Good girls live double lives walking the tightrope between good and evil. It's just a question of which side will pull us under.

And yesterday was a good night. It started off relaxing, sipping on eggnog and rum accompanied by two blacks, a crazy story from Riv and a follow up convo with the bestie. The night then led me to call Ayiti and be entertained by his antics. I'm never let down when his number is dialed...and then came the flashback. Granted we met almost 10 years ago and had spoken on and off within the last 5 he's still a flashback...another one. One who lives the same dichotomist lifestyle of good vs. Evil. And he's hella good....so I know he's just as bad. That enticing, flirtacious, innuendo filled conversation led me to contact my cousin and his best friend. They came over and I knew angels were on standby.

My cousins best friend at 24 years of age is still someone I harbor a secret crush for. Growing up as the young annoying "sibling" I could only watch "Pstreet" from afar...but now...im still young but im older now. And all of the things I couldn't express before, my dealings with other men have taught me express now.

The night rolled on sharing smokes and coronas with my cousin and Pstreet and the coronas ran out....I accompanied Pstreet to the store. Led him to the store I always go to even though he had plans of traveling elsewhere. He's a hood gentleman: whatever the pretty lady wants.

Walking side by side with my fantasy trying not to blush too hard, trying to come up with wittier and punnier lines than he, we slip slided across slippery sidewalks in brooklyn. I was feeling nice all over...and then to break the monotony, or rather keep the monotony of the brooklyn style, a quick succession of events happened.

An accident at the intersection of Pacific and Howard.
A random third party arriving at the scene screaming at other bystanders to pop off and get it popping.

Pstreet takes my hand, says in a voice so deep, so serious, so manly, a voice I wish would have spoken other words but these, "let's go"....we book it.

I've lived in Brooklyn all my life. In the heart of Crip territory, raised around Bloods, and never, never have I been as close to danger, as close to death by stray bullet as I was last night. Yet even when I am a little bit near, there is always an angel by my side. Always a man, a hood boy knowledgable to the streets there to protect me, there to guide back to the other side of the tightrope whispering "stay a good girl ma, this ain't the life for you". And in no way am I calling Pstreet an angel, he's just my angel. There to bring me close to the edge but safely pull me away. How many times can one escape close calls? I don't know....but with finally being old enough to flirt with my crush, and having him there by my side to watch out for....I have my angel on speed dial...

*too shaken up to reflect more on the situation*