My Brother's Keeper

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Captain Canada
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My Brother's Keeper

Post by Captain Canada » 24 Aug 2019, 17:47

The Rose That Grew From the Concrete

"...If you're just tuning in folks, boy, do we have a match for you. In the waning moments of the fourth quarter in the 2011 Florida Division I State Championship between IMG Academy and St. Thomas Aquinas, currently tied at 21 apiece. We've been fortunate to all be witnesses to one of the most incredible single-player performances at this level by St. Thomas Raiders running back Isaiah Morgan, talk about it George."

"Well, we've seen Isaiah Morgan - one of the premier athletes on the east coast star all season while he continues to build his 5-star resume, but wow, what a performance tonight as he continues to attempt to usurp the titan IMG defense. 26 carries for 257 yards, and he's also scored two touchdowns. He's still deciding between a few different schools, aiming to stay home, but my God, if Alabama doesn't come calling after this performance, I don't know what will."

"The Raiders will begin their drive after a seven-yard return by Dmitri Walker at the 22-yard line, and we'll see #26 continue to work his magic in the St. Thomas backfield..."

---

Isaiah marched his way onto the field with a slow jog, wiping the inside of his helmet with the bottom of his already soaked white shirt. His clear visor had begun to fog up on him with the heat failing to cool down as the sunny start of the game had been replaced with field lights and a dark sky. He got to the already full huddle and placed his helmet over his dreads he had recently started growing out.

"These muhfuckas' really gave us the ball with this much time left, let's capitalize fellas" his muffled voice spoke out as he tried to get his mouthguard situated from his helmet. The offensive line, full of hulking figures, all muttered agreement through their panting. The team had hardly been able to find their passing game all game long. The big boys up front have had to push for almost four full quarters. They were on their last legs.

"Alright fellas," the Raiders quarterback, Cedric Davis came jogging over. His white jersey had turned into a battle-worn shade of brown. IMG had played him tough all game long, penetrating the offensive line with blitzes anytime Cedric had dropped back to pass. His non-throwing hand had been stomped on earlier in the third quarter, leaving it now bloodied and bandaged. The pressure on Isaiah to perform was most-definitely on. "We're going to go I Flex Left 42 Toss on one, ready? Break!"

Isaiah stood behind Cedric who was in pistol formation. He hunched down to get his hands under the center as he began his cadence. He began spying the defense, watching the large, IMG defenders approach the line of scrimmage. They were showing blitz; trying to get to the assumed run as fast as they could.

"The Raiders go under center and IMG is showing blitz. The ball is snapped and tossed to the left to the streaking Isaiah Morgan. He's trying to break to the outside and is met by the outside linebacker. He spins out of his grasp and jump-steps into the inside, streaking back to the inside to avoid another. He's finally taken down after a dynamic gain of 16 yards!"

Isaiah, now panting, made his way back into the formation as Cedric motioned for hurry-up football. He snapped the ball and looked to pass before dropping his hands to hand the ball off to him.

"Davis looks to pass, and oh no...it's a hand-off to Morgan as he sneaks his way through the middle for another solid gain of seven!"

Isaiah glanced towards the sideline, hands on his hips, as he was sucking for air. Ordinarily, he was in excellent shape, he had ran the ball 28 times already tonight, not to mention all the routes he had ran and collisions he had made with threatening defensive players in pass protection. He was gassed. The sideline made no motion for him to come out for rest.

It was push time.

"Isaiah." Cedric called out. Unbeknownst to the drained running back, the team had been discussing the next play while the officials reset the sticks. "You good, brother?"

Broken out of his stupor, Isaiah gathered himself and nodded.

"Give me that fuckin' thing."

---

Tre bounced his knees anxiously as the crowd roared. He peeked down and watched Isaiah pick himself off the ground and flick the ball to the nearest official. He had ran for what seemed like another seven or eight yards. He paused for a moment, gave a half-heartened celebration by pointing towards another first down and scurried back to the forming huddle.

"Goddamn, that man just has no damn quit, does he?" the man sitting next to Tre said, bumping his shoulder into him and lifting his brows.

"He looks exhausted" Tre responded, huddling his arms together. He wasn't exactly cold, but goosebumps flicked the hairs on his arms to attention. His anxiety was always at an all-time high when he watched his older brother play.

"Well of course, they've been running the poor boy into the ground. IMG can't hang with him though, goddamn" Tre's father responded, clapping his hands loudly and grinning widely. Tre shook his head. Anytime him and Isaiah spoke about this game, Isaiah had been earnest about it. IMG would be the toughest game in his four years at St. Thomas Aquinas. They were the best in the state. However, Isaiah always made sure to mention, so was he.

The Raiders opened up in an empty set, Isaiah was out at wide right. He wasn't much of a receiving back, but he was an insane talent with the ball in his hand. Cedric the quarterback snapped the ball and immediately had to scramble out of the pocket due to pressure. Isaiah ran in unison with the quarterback, allowing Cedric to flip the ball quickly. Isaiah had room, stopped for a moment to scan his options before making one linebacker miss. He got a key block from wide receiver Nate Villeneuve and went racing down the sideline.

"Mama, there goes that man!" his father screamed over the erupting crowd. Isaiah was no doubt out of gas, running on fumes before being chased down at the 2-yard line by the sprinting free safety. He slowly made his way up before scrambling to the sideline, practically begging to be taken off. Tre could barely see the interaction between his brother and the head coach, Roger Harriott. The crowd was jumping up and down in the stands, and by the time Tre could catch a glance, his brother was slumping his way back out to the field.

Tre's father had begun dapping up and high-fiving other spectators in the crowd, he hadn't even noticed Isaiah's attempt to be taken out of the game. Tre twiddled his thumbs nervously as he stood with the rest of the crowd as the St. Thomas Aquinas offense broke out of their huddle.

"Finish this thing off, Zay, come on man," was all Tre could think of. He could only imagine what was running through his brother's mind.

---

"One more, Isaiah, that's all you gotta do, one. fucking. more." Isaiah thought to himself. As he stood behind Cedric as the quarterback scanned the field pre-snap, he could feel his knees wobbling under the pressure of his weight. His feet had gone numb. The sweat trickling down from his hairline to his eyes had become so abundant, wiping them away kind of seemed like a moot point.

It seemed as though everything was going in slow-motion as Cedric snapped the ball and immediately pivoted towards Isaiah lunged forward and prepared for the hand-off. The ball hit his gut and he immediately took two strides and launched his way overtop of the line of scrimmage, hoping he had enough strength left in his battered legs to make his way. He closed his eyes and braced for contact, knowing he was jumping his way into a world of pain.

Everything went silent - only the sound of his racing heartbeat rang through his ears. Everything was dark, quickly realizing his eyes were still rammed closed. He felt the ball still tucked tightly to his chest and figured he had landed. Everything was numb. He slowly cracked his eyes open, and almost like a movie, the life returned to him. As he did, he felt the offensive line pull him to his feet, exhausted but smiling faces congratulating him.

He peeked down and he realized where he was. The end zone. He had made it.

He looked up at the scoreboard and saw the St. Thomas Aquinas score go up by six. Then, he peered over to the time remaining on the clock.

Zeroes.

Soapy
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My Brother's Keeper

Post by Soapy » 25 Aug 2019, 23:35

my son.
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Captain Canada
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My Brother's Keeper

Post by Captain Canada » 26 Aug 2019, 16:44

Soapy wrote:
25 Aug 2019, 23:35
my son.
I just signed a deal - I'm on.

Let's get it.
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Caesar
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My Brother's Keeper

Post by Caesar » 26 Aug 2019, 16:59

A new challenger enters the ring, eh?

I expect a Florida man story in every update.
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Captain Canada
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My Brother's Keeper

Post by Captain Canada » 26 Aug 2019, 19:30

Caesar wrote:
26 Aug 2019, 16:59
A new challenger enters the ring, eh?

I expect a Florida man story in every update.
Here to dominate. And I'll see what I can muster up.
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Captain Canada
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My Brother's Keeper

Post by Captain Canada » 26 Aug 2019, 19:31

Lay Thee Down

Isaiah had spent what felt like hours speaking with reporters and celebrating with his teammates on the field. St. Thomas Aquinas had unseated the titans known as IMG Academy and won what many deemed to be the matchup of the century. National Championship vibes were on the horizon and he couldn't help but soak it all in.

The field had been flooded with hype members of the student section, alumnus beaming with school pride, and parents who couldn't wait to have their son in their arms after a victory. Speaking of which, Isaiah struggled to find his own loved ones amongst the crowd. He hadn't gotten much of an opportunity to interact with them much throughout the day; his father was usually out early for work every morning, and Tre headed for the library to get some studying in for a test he was preparing for.

Like clockwork, he felt a bear-hug come from behind before hearing the all-too-familiar grizzly voice from behind.

"I know I raised you to be a dog, but did you really have to do them like that?!" his father exclaimed, shaking his son in his arms before bringing him for a tight embrace. Only a moment later did he realize just how soaking wet Isaiah was. They looked at his now damp sweater now before sharing a laugh. Isaiah peeked behind his father and saw his younger brother standing behind him, looking Isaiah up and down.

"What - you ain't gon' hug me after I put damn-near 300 yards on one of the best teams in the whole country?" Isaiah jeered at his younger brother, opening his arms towards him. Tre shrugged and gave a sheepish grin.

"I ain't got enough pride like Dad to willingly get soaked in your gross-ass sweat, but you balled out Zay" he responded. He wouldn't show it, but he was beaming with joy for his brother. He knew how much he wanted it. How many long nights as children the brothers would share talking about Isaiah's football dreams. All he wanted was to become a great and move his family to bigger and brighter things.

Isaiah dapped his brother up, and embraced him shortly, much to his dismay. He leaned into his brother and ran his hand through his hair before whispering to him. "I hope you get to feel something like this one day, Tre. I've never felt more alive."

Tre stuttered for a moment before looking up at his brother. He was glowing, soaking in every aspect of the moment. He couldn't help but smile and pat his brother on his back.

His father broke the brief silence as the three started making their way off the field and towards the clubhouse where Isaiah would change back into his street clothes and no doubt celebrate with his teammates. "So, what are your plans for the night, Zay?" he asked. Isaiah stopped briefly in his tracks before taking a glance back at the field. He looked back to his family with a nervous grin.

"Well, Dede said that if we won the game, that he was going to have a kickback at his place if that's cool with y'all. And then we'll celebrate tomorrow, maybe get some brunch?" Isaiah pleaded, clasping his hands together and angling towards his father. Mr. Morgan began rubbing the back of his neck, unsure of what to say.

"You know I don't like you out late nowadays, Zay. Dede don't even live in a decent neighborhood either" he responded. Isaiah shrugged and gave a brief glance at his younger brother. Tre shrugged himself.

Dede, much like themselves, lived in a one-parent household. His father had been locked up for murder for as long as they knew him and his mother had addiction issues. She would stay clean for a while, but would fall on hard times. Dede was in some tough crowds, and had a chip on his shoulder, but he was a star cornerback that could go to some far off places if he could simply stay out of the streets.

"Come on, pops, he's a state champion, he'll be fine" Tre piped, nudging his father in the side. His father looked towards him and then at Isaiah, who was doing a little dance and had his mouth open in a wide smile waiting for the response that was bound to leak from his father.

"Fine, but-" he was immediately cut off by Isaiah jumping and pumping his fists, immediately angling for the dressing room after getting the answer he was looking for.

"Thanks Pops, I ain't even going to be home that late!" Isaiah called out as he opened the dressing room doors to screams and celebrations.

"Be careful and be mindful of your surroundings!" his father called after him, the door was closed by the time most of his sentence got out of his mouth. He sighed heavily before putting his arm around his younger son, not taking his eyes off the closed dressing room doors. Tre put his arm around his father.

"You know he's going to be fine, it's Isaiah."

---

"Early in the mornin' (mornin')
When she's all alone (when she's all alone)
I'm a take my time (yeah)
Do it how we want it (do it how we want)
Just to set the mood girl I bought some Marvin Gaye and Chardonnay"

The music vibrated through the entire house and onto the front lawn as people Isaiah couldn't even readily identify partied the night away. He had only been outside of Dede's place once or twice to pick him up after he had skipped school so he could make it to practice but was able to quickly familiarize himself with his surroundings.

The place wasn't too large; a simple two-bed, two-floor home that had definitely seen better days. The floor was covered in stains that Isaiah couldn't even make out - some were probably stains from some sort of alcohol, plenty of ashes from smokes, blunts, or whatever else was being smoked, and no doubt blood. Isaiah shuttered internally at the thought of what has probably happened here in the past.

He made his way through the crowd to the kitchen, that had been designated for blunt rolling and filling whatever you could find with any kind of alcohol to drink. Isaiah had known better to hope that Dede had bought any kind of supplies such as foam cups and brought an empty Gatorade bottle. He scavenged around for a moment before finding some vodka. He poured a little from the glass bottle and found some orange juice to mix it with. His options were clearly limited. Just as he took his first step, he felt someone clap both hands down on his shoulders. He briefly grimaced from the pain before turning to find who had hit him.

"This nigga clearly doesn't know I just finished running through IMG for four full quarters, boy if you don't get your hands off me" Isaiah joked, wiggling his shoulders out of Dede's grasp.

Dede was maybe an inch or two taller than Isaiah, but what he had in height, he clearly lacked in weight. He was tall and lanky, but his long limbs and great foot speed allowed him to lead the division in interceptions the past season. His brown eyes were nearly shut closed from God only knows how many blunts Dede had smoked since the conclusion of the home. He raised his hands in defense before picking up what looked like a golden chalice that had been hidden away.

"My bad, playboy, man wins us a state championship and all of sudden, he Hollywood huh?" Dede said, slurring his way through his entire statement so badly, Isaiah had to genuinely strain to make out of what he was saying. Isaiah dismissed it with a wave of his hand.

"Ahh man, whateva', don't worry about all that, we muthafuckin' champions now. Nobody can touch us" Isaiah responded, clinking cups and taking a deep swig. Isaiah drained most of the bottle before feeling the lurch down low. He held up his hand as some more of his teammates made their way into the kitchen to see what's up.

"Aight niggas, nature's calling," he began, gathering a few laughs from around him as the music continued to pulse. "Dede, where's the bathroom?"

Dede, consumed with pouring a concoction for a curvy brunette, simply pointed up while making eyes at her. Isaiah rolled his eyes and made his way through the crowd to the staircase that's railing was barely attached to the wall at this point. He barely made his way to the top before being met with a narrow hallway with three closed doors. He had no inkling of which could be the bathroom so he just opted for the first one. He twisted the silver doorknob and stumbled his way in.

It wasn't the bathroom.

Instead, he found three men with stacks of cash secured together with rubber bands laid out on the bed, with baggies filled to the brim with a powdery white substance scattered atop the table to the left of them. However, what shook Isaiah to his core were the black pistols each of the men had fashioned on them. One of them looked at Isaiah wide-eyed, which prompted him to realize that he was simply standing there - seeing way too much.

Soapy
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My Brother's Keeper

Post by Soapy » 27 Aug 2019, 12:40

IMG didn't have a football program in 2011. IMG does not compete in state championships.

That aside lmao good start

zay pussy
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My Brother's Keeper

Post by Captain Canada » 27 Aug 2019, 23:46

Soapy wrote:
27 Aug 2019, 12:40
IMG didn't have a football program in 2011. IMG does not compete in state championships.

That aside lmao good start

zay pussy
I tried to do my research, but niggas made our own world. We on.

Appreciate the input.
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Captain Canada
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My Brother's Keeper

Post by Captain Canada » 30 Aug 2019, 13:51

House Party

"Yo, who's this nigga?" a raspy voice screamed out, and before he knew it, he had slammed the door shut and began hustling his way back down the stairs, his urge to use the bathroom so far in the back of his mind. He pushed and shoved his way through the crowd, not looking back at anyone until he made his way to the outdoors for some fresh air. The party had undoubtedly leaked to the front lawn, which in most neighborhoods would be a giant no-no.

Isaiah put his hands on top of his head and took several deep breaths, hoping to calm the jitters that had shook him to his foundation. His father had done his best to keep him and his younger brother away from that kind of stuff, to stay off of the streets, and away from trouble. Hell, this was his first time seeing anything more potent than marijuana. He felt a hand reach onto his shoulder; jumping practically out of his skin in response. He turned to find Dede, much more wide-eyed with a serious look on his face.

Isaiah attempted to joke with him. "Damn, Dede, what did I tell you about my shoulders, man?" Dede continued to give Isaiah a stoic look, his vibe felt serious as all hell. Isaiah felt his heart sink - he didn't like this situation one bit.

"My niggas told me you ran up on them and cut, you seen some shit you shouldn't have been seeing" he responded, this time no slur could be found whatsoever. Whatever those men had said to him had clearly sobered Dede up.

Again, Isaiah held his hands up in defense, a pleading look on his face. "Dede, you know me, that's none of my business, man, I don't want any kind of trouble."

"You should come back inside, we gotta talk."

"Nah, man, I really should be going, I told my Pops I wouldn't be out late, and I gotta go home because, you know how Tre worries bro." Dede wasn't having any of it.

"I don't give a fuck about that lil nigga, I said bring your ass inside" Dede spat, gently lifting the front of the shirt to reveal a tucked away gun. Isaiah froze at the sight, only able to lift his eyes from the pistol after Dede put his shirt back down. He looked for any kind of emotion in what was supposed to be one of his oldest friends. He found a cold, icy stare.

"You would do me like that? De, after all that we been through?" Isaiah pleaded, tears welling up in his eyes. "We just won State, things are looking up for us."

Dede said no words, his face didn't move one, singular muscle. And just like that, Isaiah bolted for the house across the street, hoping he could make some ground and get some cover. There was going to be nothing good for him if he re-entered that house.

There was a loud clapping noise and Isaiah felt something hit him as he had just made it to the opposite sidewalk. His legs went numb, almost like what happened to him during the game. But this time, he simply collapsed to the ground. He briefly heard screams and scrambling, but all the sound and colour in the world just seeped away from him. His breaths went shallow and his body instantly felt cold. He kept telling himself to move, that if he simply got to his feet, he could make his way to a main road, find a store or something, and call his Dad to pick him up.

Boy would he pissed to have to drive out so late at night, and he would probably never let him out of the house until he left for College. But, he would be there in a moment's notice because that's just the type of guy he is. But, no matter how much he begged, he wouldn't budge. He just grew more and more tired.

It had been a long day, and he won the state championship for his school. He was so proud. Everyone was so happy. He deserved to sleep, even for just a moment.

Tre would be up to wake him up to catch an early morning cartoon anyways, it wouldn't be for very long.

It was time to sleep.
---
The doorbell rang so prominently that it woke Tre from his sleep. He almost didn't bother getting out of bed, assuming it was Isaiah and he had forgotten his keys like last time. His Dad had been so pissed, he came home reeking of booze, so he ran him through some gassers as soon as he woke up the very next day.

But, for whatever reason, Tre lifted himself out of bed to see what was going on. His father had just reached the door when he made his way into the hallway, deciding this was close enough without looking like he was waiting for his elder brother to get in trouble. His blood ran cold when his father opened his door, not to his intoxicated brother, but to a police officer, and clearly not a happy one.

"Excuse me, sir, are you Darnell Morgan?" the man asked in a low voice, clearly trying to speak quietly enough that Tre couldn't make out the words. He had to strain his ears to catch only some of the words but couldn't quite make it out.

"What's this about officer, is my son okay?" Darnell answered back, fumbling with his hands as the officer removed his police cap and held it low in his hands.

"I was at the game earlier today sir, I'm a big fan. I hate to do this, but there was an accident" he said solemnly. Darnell began quaking in his shoes; Tre still couldn't quite hear so he decided to move in a little closer.

"Where is my boy?" Darnell barely got out, giving a pleading look to the officer. The officer simply shook his head, prompting Darnell, tears now flowing from his eyes to shake his head profusely.

"No, no no, where's my son, Mr. Officer. Where is he?" he began to choke out, his tears overcoming him. The officer placed his hand gently on the tearful man's shoulder.

"There was a shooting, sir, we did all we could, but..."

Tre had made his way behind his father, who had sunk to his hands and knees now.

"Isaiah Morgan was killed."

The darkness that consumes us all.
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Caesar
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My Brother's Keeper

Post by Caesar » 30 Aug 2019, 14:16

Image

Isaiah should've bobbed instead of weaving and then he wouldn't have ended up like Ricky. :smh:
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