handful of helpers stood smiling with red and white Santa hats atop their heads and a plethora of toys surrounding them.
Mox lived for days like this because he was once one of the less fortunate. Each time he gave a gift out and was thanked, his smile spread wider. The hood loved Mox, especially this hood.
From his peripheral, Mox spotted a familiar face. He jumped down from the back of the trailer and advanced toward her.
“Priscilla?” He called.
The joyless young lady stared at Mox, trying to recognize his face. Her hair was in shambles and her garments were unkempt. Drug use was obvious, but she still seemed to have a sparkle of flair that lingered.
In less than a minute, she recalled his face. How could she not remember? She grinned, but then her pleasure immediately turned to sorrow.
“You see what these streets did to me, Mox?”
“You stronger than this, Priscilla.” He looked over her haggard frame. Mox wanted to cry.
“You always told me I was strong, Mox, but this shit is stronger.” She admitted.
A curly haired little girl tugged at Priscilla's sleeve. “Mommy, I want a present.” She pressed.
“Is that your daughter?”
“Yes, and she's gettin' on my last nerve about these damn toys.”
Mox kneeled down in front of the little girl. “She's gorgeous, Priscilla. Hi there, beautiful, what's your name?” he inquired.
The little girl smiled and answered. “Brandi.”
“Hi Brandi, my name is Mox and me and your mom are very good friends. Let me ask you something, Brandi. If there was one toy you could have in the whole world...what would it be?”
With no hesitation, Brandi shouted, “Dora!”
Mox couldn't help but laugh at her glee, but he didn't have a clue what Dora was.
“Ok, what's Dora?” Brandi pointed to a three foot doll sitting on the back of the truck. “Oh, that's Dora, well let's go get her.” Mox grabbed Brandi's hand and led her through the sea of children while Priscilla followed. He yelled for one of the helpers to get the doll.
“Mox, you don't have to do this.”
“Yes I do. Here you go, Brandi.” He sat the doll right next to her.
“Thank you.” She said.
Mox watched her eyes shine and her lips curl into a smile. This is what life was about; being able to have a hand in someone else's happiness. Mox enjoyed these moments.
Priscilla looked at Mox. “Why do you do this?”
“Because if I don't, who will? I sold a lot of drugs out here, you know how it was. I took away from plenty of mouths and destroyed more than enough families pushing work through here.” Mox reflected. “I'm in a position now that I'm able to give back to the people that gave to me, so it's only right.”
Priscilla eyed Mox. “What about us, Mox?”
In the back of his mind, he was thinking the same thing. He and Priscilla had a past that was so strong; the energy could still be felt.
He and Priscilla met when Mox was fifteen and she was 18. She loved her some Mox and at the time, she was ready to do any and everything he asked.
Unbeknownst to Mox, Priscilla was a few weeks pregnant when he went on the run. Nine months later, she pushed out a 7 pound, 5 ounce baby girl and named her Brandi.
Priscilla did all she could to contact Mox, but he cut his ties to the outside world when he became a fugitive. She even went as far as finding his whereabouts through the internet and writing letters to him while he was incarcerated, but she never received a response.
A few years passed, and Priscilla became involved with one of her younger brother's friends named Ryan.
Ryan was a fairly decent, local cocaine dealer. He was seeing a few stacks a week and Priscilla preyed on his weakness of lust. She let him let him taste the pink candy and had him wrapped up like a car wreck on the interstate from that day forward.
Ryan was into popping pills heavy while he and
Mox lived for days like this because he was once one of the less fortunate. Each time he gave a gift out and was thanked, his smile spread wider. The hood loved Mox, especially this hood.
From his peripheral, Mox spotted a familiar face. He jumped down from the back of the trailer and advanced toward her.
“Priscilla?” He called.
The joyless young lady stared at Mox, trying to recognize his face. Her hair was in shambles and her garments were unkempt. Drug use was obvious, but she still seemed to have a sparkle of flair that lingered.
In less than a minute, she recalled his face. How could she not remember? She grinned, but then her pleasure immediately turned to sorrow.
“You see what these streets did to me, Mox?”
“You stronger than this, Priscilla.” He looked over her haggard frame. Mox wanted to cry.
“You always told me I was strong, Mox, but this shit is stronger.” She admitted.
A curly haired little girl tugged at Priscilla's sleeve. “Mommy, I want a present.” She pressed.
“Is that your daughter?”
“Yes, and she's gettin' on my last nerve about these damn toys.”
Mox kneeled down in front of the little girl. “She's gorgeous, Priscilla. Hi there, beautiful, what's your name?” he inquired.
The little girl smiled and answered. “Brandi.”
“Hi Brandi, my name is Mox and me and your mom are very good friends. Let me ask you something, Brandi. If there was one toy you could have in the whole world...what would it be?”
With no hesitation, Brandi shouted, “Dora!”
Mox couldn't help but laugh at her glee, but he didn't have a clue what Dora was.
“Ok, what's Dora?” Brandi pointed to a three foot doll sitting on the back of the truck. “Oh, that's Dora, well let's go get her.” Mox grabbed Brandi's hand and led her through the sea of children while Priscilla followed. He yelled for one of the helpers to get the doll.
“Mox, you don't have to do this.”
“Yes I do. Here you go, Brandi.” He sat the doll right next to her.
“Thank you.” She said.
Mox watched her eyes shine and her lips curl into a smile. This is what life was about; being able to have a hand in someone else's happiness. Mox enjoyed these moments.
Priscilla looked at Mox. “Why do you do this?”
“Because if I don't, who will? I sold a lot of drugs out here, you know how it was. I took away from plenty of mouths and destroyed more than enough families pushing work through here.” Mox reflected. “I'm in a position now that I'm able to give back to the people that gave to me, so it's only right.”
Priscilla eyed Mox. “What about us, Mox?”
In the back of his mind, he was thinking the same thing. He and Priscilla had a past that was so strong; the energy could still be felt.
He and Priscilla met when Mox was fifteen and she was 18. She loved her some Mox and at the time, she was ready to do any and everything he asked.
Unbeknownst to Mox, Priscilla was a few weeks pregnant when he went on the run. Nine months later, she pushed out a 7 pound, 5 ounce baby girl and named her Brandi.
Priscilla did all she could to contact Mox, but he cut his ties to the outside world when he became a fugitive. She even went as far as finding his whereabouts through the internet and writing letters to him while he was incarcerated, but she never received a response.
A few years passed, and Priscilla became involved with one of her younger brother's friends named Ryan.
Ryan was a fairly decent, local cocaine dealer. He was seeing a few stacks a week and Priscilla preyed on his weakness of lust. She let him let him taste the pink candy and had him wrapped up like a car wreck on the interstate from that day forward.
Ryan was into popping pills heavy while he and
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