Chronicles of the Streets: Chronicles of the Streets, #1

By Frederick Chapple

In the streets plenty of people have dreams of rising to the top but only a select few will ever see the view from that position. Chronicles of the Streets digs deep into the daily dilemmas and inner turmoil that consumes the psyche of a person who knows right but is drawn to wrong.

This is an excellent portrait of streetlife and the effects it can and/or will have on family, friends and strangers as well as self. Chronicles of the Streets is an authentic perspective only a small quantity have lived but multitudes can now experience firsthand through this explosive opus guaranteed to keep you riveted from start to finish.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Black Royalty
• Release date: Jan 31, 2017
• ISBN: 9781536590210

Book preview

This is a work of fiction. It is not meant to depict, portray or represent any particular real persons. All the characters, incidents and dialogues are the products of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any references of similarities to actual events, entities, real people, living or dead, or to real locales are intended to give the writing a sense of reality. Any similarity in other names, characters, entities, places and incidents is entirely coincidental.

Copyright ©2017 Black Royalty

Written by: Frederick Chapple

Produced by: Frederick Chapple

Executive Produced by: Tonolaya Hicks-Chapple  Creative Direction by: Tonolaya Hicks-Chapple

Cover Art by: Cosimo Liberto

Copy Edited by: Black Royalty

All rights reserved. Without limiting the right under copyright reserved above. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without prior written consent except in critical articles and reviews.

For further information contact:

Black Royalty

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19132

Phone: [phone]

email: [e-mail]

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Black Royalty literary compositions does not promote or advocate violence and/or criminal activity but imparts street-level grit while shattering narrow paradigms of street fiction's expansive, visceral appeal.

Black Royalty will narrate raw tales and pen intriguing books that move the heart while stimulating the mind. Everyone has a story to tell but not everyone feels as though they have a voice; Black Royalty is that voice.

Black Royalty's vision goes above and beyond the norm to forge a path of longevity. Therefore, feel the artistic love of storytelling through the creative expression experienced in the writings.

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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

First and Foremost—All praise is for ALLAH alone, the Creator and Lord of all that exist. You alone I worship and you alone I seek aid and forgiveness. I ask that you set my affairs and the affairs of the believers straight. (Ameen)

Lottie Chapple—Mom, your strength and your love helps me get through each day. I love you more than any words could ever explain. Thank you for loving me unconditionally all my life.

Tonolaya Hicks-Chapple—I love you more than you'll ever know. We've been through it all and we're still here. You are not just the woman of my dreams but you are my dream come true. Your support and your footwork played a big part in making this book happen. THANKS!

K$—My man K (Dollar Sign), this word will not do the meaning any justice but I want to tell you THANKS! You came through in the clutch homie.

Maxwell Penn—Without you big homie I wouldn't even be in the game. I follow your lead because you're always moving in the right direction. I appreciate you and its always S.C.G. for life!

Tynisha, Tyheek, Tyshawn, Tynequa, Tyeenia, Fah'kira, Tyshir, Syncere, Trinity and Zaevion—I love all of you so much and you each mean the world to me. Know that I strive every day to be a better person in order to be the best dad and pop-pop.

Denise, Gloria and Curtis—My siblings, thanks for all the encouragement, support and

words of wisdom. I love yall.

The Family—To many of yall to name right off the bat but know that yall are in my heart and I love yall.

The Friends— (your name here), get at me.

The Incarcerated—Keep your heads up because shit gets greater later. Never lay down under no circumstances. Sometimes we're dealt a fucked-up hand but we gotta play those cards, so make it happen!

The Supporters—Thank you all so very much. Without each and every one of you I

couldn't do this. Yall give me confidence to keep pushing forward. I appreciate all who

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purchased this book.

Last and Certainly Least—To the haters and the doubters...I'm just getting started!

Shattered Dreams

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Kitty ran as fast as her thick legs could move, ducking and dodging the rapid burst of hot metal that flew from the hand cannon. If anyone had occupied the streets, then they sure as hell got the fuck out of the way as shots continued to ring out.

Now in an Usain Bolt-like sprint Kitty could feel her heart beat through her chest. Her breathing turned into short, critical gasps as sweat rolled down her pretty face hindering her 20/20 vision. She couldn't see the gunman at the moment but certainly knew the voice. Bitch! I'ma kill ya fuckin' ass!

Without a doubt Kitty was running for her life. She didn't picture dying this way, not in a million years. She hit the next little street, cut right and kept it moving while her pursuer attempted to close the distance.

She made it to the corner, bending it at full speed as she glanced back and saw the dark figure raise the chrome object. A flash of light brightened the night followed by a thunderous boom! BOOM! BOOM!

The episode reminded Kitty of pre-teen years being chased home from school by the little bad ass neighborhood girls. She seemed to keep her composure for a person whose life is in danger. There was nothing else to do. She silently asked god to see her through this one.

No traffic was scattered about the Philly streets this early. Therefore, it was no one to run to. She dipped left and headed toward the entrance of the train at K & A. Scared to death she thought she was making a clean getaway.

Three crack heads came out of nowhere directly into her path. Kitty broke through their little huddle, her small frame bursting through like Marshawn Lynch in Beast Mode.

Out of nowhere came the bright glare of headlights. Tires screeched as the sedan came to a halt. In less than seconds gunshots erupted from the driver's side window. Kitty climbed over the hood of a parked car and kept running.

Almost breathless, she refused to give up. She sprinted past the Chinese Store. Kitty saw the glow of lights from the train stop. Quickly she hit the stairs and stumbled up the first couple. She regained her step instantly and began to climb them two at a time.

BOP! BOP! BOP!

Managing to dodge that heavy curtain of shots from the semi-automatic pistols more soon came  Bop-Bop! Bop! Bop! Kitty experienced a burning on her insides like never before.

Right after she got a whiff of burnt flesh. Bullets had torn into the exotic dancer leaving the left

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side of her body numb for a second. Shit became blurry as severe pain swept over her petite body and up to her brain.

A furious voice blurted, You gon' steal my fuckin' money, you dumb bitch! I' ma murder ya ass!

The statement echoed as all movement began to slow up. Blood spilled from her body. She wanted to just go and run but only managed to inch at a snail's pace. This was the repercussions of stealing a niggah's paper. It was no turning back. The fucked-up part was that Kitty had not even got the chance to spend one cent of it.

Her lungs had begun to full with blood. She was determined not to die on these cold and unforgiving streets. Life was short so short that she had only spent nineteen years on this earth. Her breathing was labored while she could barely move but continued to fight through the agony and push forward. Kitty endured intense pain with each and every step made. The gunshot wounds burned like a motherfucker.

She heard yelling and strained her neck turning towards the direction the sounds came from. She hadn't even noticed that the train had pulled up. When the doors opened, people saw her bloodied body right before it hit the hard concrete.

Gun clapping sounded off like fireworks on the fourth. The sea of people jumped back onto the train as the two goons let of the rest of what their clips held. Then just like that they disappeared.

Within seconds the station was swarming with police and ambulances. Kitty's blood flowed freely onto the concrete. Her eyes rolled uncontrollably into the back of her head as the female paramedic worked on her.

Seconds away from death and it seemed as if those so-called lifesavers were taking their precious time. After they placed her into the ambulance it sped through the streets, siren wailing loudly. Kitty's arm hung from the gurney as life left her body.

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We've been on the phone for 15-minutes. Now you asking can you come over? You knew you was try'na ask me that shit when you first called. Mercedes had changed her low sexy tone into the Niggah be for real tone.

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She's used that tone of voice several times and just like the previous niggahs, he froze

up too.

Mercedes was a bad bitch in every way. She stood 5'7", smooth toffee complexion and with wavy jet-black hair down to her back she caught attentive eyes from both genders.

So you ain't gon' say nothing?

He sought out the best words to mask his real intentions, then stammered out, I'm just try'na build wit' you.

Ever since Khari met her last week at the strip club this had seemed to be his nightly ritual. However, he did a great job at controlling his tongue knowing that he was trying to get a DSE (Dick Suck Everything).

We can build right here over the phone. You don't have to come over here to do that. Plus, I ain't got nothing on but my thong.

The thought of Mercedes wearing nothing but a thong turned his dick into stone. He involuntary started to caress it through his jeans.

You can keep that on. Shit, I saw you with less than that on at the club.

His remark turned her off and her stomach began to cramp. This was the feeling she got sometimes before she got ready to perform on stage. By Khari I have to get some sleep.

She banged on him not allowing him the chance to comment any further. Mercedes laid in the darkness of her bedroom. The light from her smartphone seemed brighter. Her mind tumbled through life's ups and downs. She wondered how her dreams became shattered as she stared at the screen in a daze when it suddenly rung.

The number that flashed across the screen brought a smile to Mercedes lips. It was her little sister Lexus. Only four years apart the two were best friends, What's up, bitch? Mercedes answered.

Whateva bitch... I'm just getting in so I'm calling to tell you I'm ah'ight.

She lied through her teeth. She knew that Mercedes was overprotective towards her and always kept her on the straight and narrow.

I'm fuckin' with you. I was getting my clothes ready for school tomorrow. But, I wanted to make sure that you were still going to give me the hundred dollars.

You better been just fuckin' with me. Yeah I got the money. Be here before eight o' clock and don't let mommy know.

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Believe me sticky fingers will not know. Lexus assured her sister.

Mercedes mind traveled a short distance and brushed over some of the shit her mother had stolen of hers and then sold to feed her habit. Lex she bit me for a lot of shit. If she wasn't your mother I would've beat that ass. Both girls broke out into laughter.

The two simultaneously grew silent for the moment. Lexus wanted to rollout and move in with Mercedes so bad. Mercedes disliked her mother with a passion. It had only been about six months since she moved out herself. The night she left, she had come home from the club and found her room door wide open and everything in shambles. She rushed over to the closet but saw the Prada shoebox tilted on its side and empty before she got to it.

Every penny of the twenty-five hundred was gone. Mercedes allowed the tears to stream down her face like a broken faucet. The next morning when her mother strolled into the house, shit was on and popping. Mercedes wrapped her hands around the fragile neck of her mother and began to apply pressure, attempting to squeeze the life out of her ass.

Mercedes? Mercedes? Mercedes! Lexus called out.

Mercedes was in a trance due to the old memory. Yeah, yeah... she came back. Damn I called you like three times. You falling asleep on me?

No I was thinking about something.

Well I'll see you tomorrow big sis.

After hanging up Mercedes laid alone in the little five-hundred dollar a month efficiency she called home. She remembered the day she arrived. Her plans were not to be here that long. She saw a house in the near future. Yet, she was still here. She then glanced over at the bag Kitty had left earlier. Right next to it was her bag of toys.

Tonight, would be another dickless night. Not that dick wasn't available but just that she wasn't feeling it tonight. She reached inside her toy bag and pulled out the pink Bedroom Kandy collection vibrator. Mercedes loved the feeling of cumming just like every other woman on the planet. She laid back onto the bed and opened her legs. The sound of the humming vibrator was soothing and after she started to get busy—IT FELT SO DAMN GOOD.

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The Tuesday night crowd was live and surprisingly large. A gang full of regulars mixed with a collection of non-regulars. As Cherry looked over to her right she felt right at home. Street niggahs rocking the latest fashions, draped in more diamonds that Sierra Leone could produce. Then, she turned and looked to her left. Gentlemen in pressed shirts, suits and shined dress shoes. Those who careers had them sitting on top of the ladder.

In only a neon green G-string and matching stilettos you couldn't tell that Cherry was

thirty-six years of age with the body she had. No stretch marks, titties sitting right due to the fabulous boob job and ass so fat and round you could sit a glass on it. Originally from Baltimore, Maryland, Cherry moved to Philly only three years ago. She dove deep into the underworld of Philly's nightlife. Here she took on the persona of Cherry and the tattoo of two Cherries on her right ass cheek was her trademark.

The club's walls were painted charcoal gray with full length mirrors covering every single inch of the place which made the spot appear larger than it actually was. As a Drake song pounded from the club speakers, Cherry began to transform. Feeling numb to the atmosphere she glided over to the guys wearing the suits and ties.

Hello handsome. She broke the ice then went straight for the kill. Would you like a private dance?

The gentleman loosened his tie as he leaned back in his seat and licked his lips.

Cherry leaned into him, Thirty dollars, she whispered in his ear, putting a smile on his face as she took his hand and lead him off to the private room.

She closed the door behind them and smiled. He was on the love seat as her mind began to drift. Sliding her hand inside of her G-string she touched her moist pussy. Slowly gyrating her hips, she moved a bit closer allowing her titties to brush over his face. His hands started to explore her every curve. He palmed her ass and squeezed softly. The man's dick stood at attention. Cherry grabbed his hand preventing him from violating the club's so-called policies. Sorry but all that is gonna cost you extra, she stated then licked the man's earlobe.

He whipped out his wallet and pulled out a fifty. Cherry continued to stare at him until he eased out another fifty. She graciously took it from his grasp. The mid-tempo music played as she backed up and lifted her breast to her mouth and licked her nipples.  Damn! I know I'm gonna like this, he spoke out.

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Pulling his pants and boxer briefs down, Cherry unleashed his hard dick and slid it across her lips. Her mouth opened and the head of his piece disappeared.

Ooh... Yeah...

She pleasured him until his toes began to curl in his shined dress shoes. He helps guide her head up and down on his throbbing dick. She sensed that he was on the verge of cumming. Cherry sucked a little faster and bit harder until he jerked and shot everything he had down her throat.

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The alarm came to life waking Mercedes from her slumber. This morning all of