Q.U.E.E.N.: Quit Underestimating Every Empress Nigga!

“Nigga, you shot me!” Jasmine yells. “What the fuck? After all I’ve put up with and I get a bullet in my arm? Fuck that! I’m not dying tonight!” Before Quan would see it coming, she lunges forward, smacking the gun from his hand. “You fucked up now, nigga!” She grunts, wrestling with him to make it clear who has power in this moment. After all the times she’s submitted, she won’t do it today. She gets him in the perfect position to throw repeated blows to the area where his chin meets his bottom lip. She sees his eyes roll back into his head for a moment and thrusts herself toward the large bird statue to smash it into his face. He absorbs the blow. The statue is still intact, but he is motionless.

Silence overwhelms the one-bedroom apartment as she hustles to kick his gun to a corner and locate something strong to tie his hands, feet and person to the post that seems to keep the bar and everything atop in their places.

She sits to catch her breath, realizing again that she’s been shot. She picks up her phone to call her bestie.

“Elise!” Jasmine whispers harshly.

“What girl, damn! Are you okay? Why you yelling my government name all out like that!? You gone have…”

“I need your help! This is major!” Jasmine had to interrupt her friend’s tendency to go on forever about a single concept.

“What have you gotten yourself into bestie? I know you’re leaving for Atlanta tomorrow. Please don’t tell me that...”

“I think Quan is dead.” Silence.

“Are you sure he’s dead, because he could...”

“I think I’m sure.” Jasmine responds.

“Fuck that bitch! Ok, so we’re not trying to be like those crazy white folks in the movies. Can you safely lean close to him, check his pulse, listen for breathing or a heartbeat or something? Don’t touch him!”

“I think I can, because I have this nigga wrapped all the way up just in case he woke up. He shot me in my arm!”

“Well damn! Okay, uhm… see what’s up with him then…” Elise is pacing through her entire home, not leaving a corner unexplored. Jasmine watches movement in her victim’s chest area. She figures it would be the easiest to assess. After a minute or so, she begins to lean forward to hear or feel breathing from his nose or mouth. “Bitch! Are you alive??...”

“Shut up, E! You gone wake this nigga up by your damn self! You’re on speaker!”

“Awe shit, my fault. I was just worried, friend. I’ll shut up and let you just talk and make requests…” Elise rolls her eyes, unable to grasp how she got here, but not regretting being able to be there for her friend when she needs her most.

“Giiiirlll… this nigga is still alive.”

“Okay.” Elise thinks briefly. “I tell you what. Let’s keep this simple. I know I’m intelligent and all but call the police! You have a gun shot wound from a gun that was in his possession. The apartment, utilities are all in your name. Just tell the law the truth. This nigga’s been living off you for 2 years and when you confronted him about cheating, he shot you!”

“It’s a little more to the story than that though…”

“Fuck that! You shot! His gun! That’s a no brainer! Don’t be a stupid, bitch!” Jasmine, on the strength of her friend’s advice, decides to take on whatever comes with making this phone call to 911.

Four months later, Jasmine appears in court.

“Good morning, your honor, and all courtroom participants. I am Attorney Elise Davis. Let’s briefly discuss what my client, Jasmine Foster, experienced on the night of June 27, 2016.”

THE END