Never Shed a Tear: The Untold Story of Taheed Styles

By Vincent Greene Sr.

Born in the Reagan era and raised in the grimiest part of the City of
Wilmington, Taheed Nav'ier Styles had to learn the true sacrifices of
gaining and losing the most irreplaceable pieces to his heart
throughout his journey through adolescence and adulthood. From
losing his parents at an early age to finding love and having children
of his own, Taheed learned how to get rich the fast way. Despite
the adversities, trials and tribulations, he gains the understanding of
learning the reality of precious, priceless valuables, but at what
cost? Who can you call on for answers when there's no one to talk
to?
Take a journey into the life of Taheed Styles

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jul 24, 2012
• ISBN: 9781477248683

Vincent Greene Sr.

Vincent Greene is a first time author (with much more to come). He was born on February 20, 1981 in Wilmington General Hospital. He grew up on Northside's 24th Street in Wilmington, DE. Vincent began writing books, as well as music, while doing an 8-year prison sentence in Virginia. During this time, he also received his GED. His talent was recognized by many of his fellow peers.

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© 2012 by Vincent Greene Sr. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 07/17/2012

ISBN: 978-1-4772-4870-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4772-4869-0 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4772-4868-3 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2012913002

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Acknowledgments

Prologue

Chapter One I’m Having Nightmares

Chapter Two Silenced Curiosity

Chapter Three Mathematics of a Hustler

Chapter Four Time 2 Come Up

Chapter Five On Ma Block

Chapter Six Stand Alone

Part Two

Chapter Seven Open Season

Chapter Eight Disturbed

Chapter Nine Me Against Hellaware

Chapter Ten Boom … Boom … Boom

Chapter Eleven "Murda After Midnight … You Can Say It Was A

Murda By A Lunatic"

Chapter Twelve Get Back … Get Back

Chapter Thirteen Right Connect, Wrong Company

Chapter Fourteen It’z Goin D-Down

Chapter Fifteen The Sweetest Joy Next to Gett’N Pussy … Revenge"

Part Three

Chapter Sixteen Fair Exchange, No Robbery

Chapter Seventeen Trust, Loyalty, & Respect

Chapter Eighteen Back 2 Da Block

Chapter Nineteen Testers … Testers

Chapter Twenty It Ain’t Personal

Chapter Twenty-One Operation Shut Down

Chapter Twenty-Two Hustle & Bubble

Chapter Twenty-Three Secrets of A Gangsta

About the Author

Acknowledgments

First and foremost, I would like to thank God for giving me the strength to overcome my adversities and write this book.

Second, I want to thank my family: my wonderful wife, Turmesha Greene and my children, Ken’Nedi, Ya’Ara, Vincent Jr., Craig, and Namir; my mother, Gwendolyn D. Harris; my father, Edward V. Harris and stepmother, Regina Harris; my grandparents, Gloria Greene and Christine Sudler; my brothers, Dante’ aka Chunny, Lil big bro Glen and sister-in-law, Chiquita, Terrell aka Rico B.k.A. as Tip Toe to the fiends; my sisters Dominique, and brother-in-law, Man-Man, can’t forget the twins Brittany, and Brianna; all my nieces and nephews. Much love to my Aunt Wanda, Uncle Clinton, Prez Loopz, Bret, and lil cousin Tyler. Stay Positive. Shout out to my entire Harris family, Greene family, the Flamers, the Sudlers. Shout out to my in-laws: McCleade Sturgis-Blake and Adrian Pringle. Shout out to my extended family. There are a lot of us so just know my family as a whole is in my thoughts and prayers.

Next, I want to shout out my right hand when my left don’t work 2-4 Pop, also known as Phillip Greene; Arnie; Uncle Mackie Air time; Scotty P Funk hard body in this motherfucka; 2-4 Columbo; Cousin Boomer (R.I.P.). RayBall (R.I.P.) we made history baby; Ran a.k.a. Sock; Tobias Wiggins; All my urban legends. Anthony White; Raymond Blake D.D.P. Productions; Free all my niggaz that’s locked up. All My lil’ cousins Quarter Juice a.k.a Will, Jaymere, Free Teego B.S.I. (it’s still a movement cuzz). Shouts out to the whole NorthSide; Carter St., Lamotte St., Jessup St., 2-4 we all over. I told ya’ll when I came home it was on.

Eastside,Westside,Southside,Riverside, the bucket 2-6. Wilmington, Delaware as a whole, we all one in my book I don’t know what chapter you on. Everybody I bidded with in V.A. All my homies still doing large numbers behind that G wall continue to hold it down stay strong. Smash Inc. Records we still here. Devin Phillips a.k.a Sadahm b.k.a. Box Cutta Jones; Juan Holden a.k.a Wise Demarco; Quan; Robert Cost; real recognize real, u c it… R.I.P. Mandingo (T.G.Legend). Gone never forgotten. May God bless your family. Shout out to Still Eat’n Entertainment’s CEO Mosaic. Soundtrack to the book coming soon!

All the haters who motivated me to stand firm. Thanks for forcing me to man up and face my fears. Now I’m a firm believer when it comes to me wanting to do things in life pertaining to getting ahead. I believe strongly there’s nothing I can’t do, nothing I can’t achieve and no obstacle course I can’t conquer. Shout out to everyone who pushed me along the way. All those who weren’t afraid to risk their lives out there with me in them trenches/da hood/da trap. To all those that marched with me and got down and dirty to grip that paper when it was necessary. We all struggle sometimes… . but when shit gets real… . who do you believe in?

This here was just a brief presentation of my reality. You never know when your expiration date will arrive, so note to self, it is best to live your life to the fullest. Be mindful of the short cuts you take to get where you’re going and most important clean up after yourself as you go along. Keep in mind you can’t change or control the people you love, you can only adjust the way you deal with them.

Much Love to the Whole Warn A Brovaz Social Club we moving team. Also to Majestic Angels Social Club (Keep it moving ladies) for all their love and support as well. Lastly, I would like to thank Christina, my photographer, who made these photos possible and Repo for putting the photo shoot together.

Its way too many names to name just know you weren’t forgotten. I got plenty of projects that I’m working on so stay tuned and keep me and my family in your prayers. And remember if you think it you can achieve it. God Bless.

Prologue

Waking up in a 2-bedroom row house to nothing but screams of mercy and help, I assumed I was having another nightmare. But from the continuation of my mother’s pleading voice, I came to grips with the fact that it was more so reality. I quickly climbed from under my Transformers blanket and rushed to see where all of the commotion was coming from; only to see my father beating on my mother as if she was a bum on the streets that stole from him. I ran over towards them and jumped on my father’s back in an attempt to help my mother, but as always it was useless. Again, I was slung from one side of the living room to the other. When I landed, I just sat there on the floor and stared at my father furiously. Seconds later, he must’ve realized my emotions were cold when we made eye contact because that’s when he finished up his brutal boxing match with my mother. Instantly, I ran over and jumped into her arms. I was filled with hatred towards my father, as if it was me who had received every blow my mother felt from his oversized fist. My father, born Veto Lee Styles, stood six feet, four inches tall and weighed every bit of two hundred and ninety pounds of fat and muscle. He had a razor cut from his left ear to the right ear that connected under his chin. In the hood, that’s what we considered a buck fifty. Wearing wheat-colored construction boots, blue jeans, with no shirt on, sweating, pacing back and forth, Veto broke his silence, what the fuck are y’all looking at? My mother just sniffled and stared in silence. She was teary eyed and emotionally disturbed. I looked up at her seriously wondering what she was thinking. And how much more of this physical punishment can her slim, one hundred and thirty-five pound frame take. She gazed down directly into my eyes as if to say, not much longer son… . not much longer…

Chapter One

I’m Having Nightmares

D addy stop, you killing her, you killing her, I shouted.

My mother was on the floor with two bear size claws around her windpipe. I watched in awe as my mother slowly faded away from life, and for that one second, I wished for God to grant me the strength to knock him from over top of her helpless figure. Instead, all I could do was yell to the top of my lungs, mommmm. Growing weaker and breathless, she just faded, unconsciously as her body went limp.

Mommmm! I yelled once again. The sound of my voice must’ve had power because it reached her in demand of a response. Her eyes popped open and were bloodshot red like a blood clog. She looked me in my eye briefly then again her twenty-three year old frame went completely limp and her body fell flat out.

Cursing, raging, and shouting in deep belief that was the end of my mother’s precious life, my father picked me up off of my mother’s body to calm me down. At the same time this crazy motherfucker was actually laughing like the incident which just occurred was extremely hilarious and entertaining. So my only reaction to his reaction was to react in more of a painful rage.

Get the fuck off me! I cursed at my father. He just laughed more and picked me up off of my feet while collaring me up by my t-shirt.

Taheed, calm your ass down and shut the fuck up, he demanded. But it was useless.

No, you killed my mom. Let me go! I squirmed in attempts to break free of his handle.

Boy shut up, calm your little ass down… she gone be alright, Veto barked.

I wasn’t trying to hear that shit though. So I kept kicking and trying to pull his hands from my shirt. He just stared at me then dropped me. I ran over to my mom and tried to wake her up, but she wouldn’t come to. Veto stood in the doorway smoking a joint still smiling while chasing his every drag of the spliff with a shot of some knotty head rum.

Come on son, you going next door to Channelle’s house for a little while until your mom wake up. Me and her need to talk.

I stubbornly shook my head in disagreement not wanting to comply, but that only made Veto roughly grab my seven year old frame away from my mother’s body. He literally had to carry me out of the house and over to our neighbor’s house. I resisted by biting, kicking, and shouting every step of the way. Unfortunately, none of it worked. He dropped me off like it was nothing. Ms. Channelle took me to a family cookout that day. It was a lot of kids there my age, so eventually I loosened up and began to mingle amongst the people. It wasn’t until nightfall when Ms. Channelle decided to take me home. For the entire time I was with her, never did I once mention the fight my parents had.

Here, give this bag to your mother and tell her and your father that I said you’re welcome anytime, alright? she spoke as I exited her car.

O.k. I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye Ms. Channelle, I shouted joyously, happy to be returning home.

Greeted by a smiling mother in the front doorway, I quickly lit up like a 150-watt light bulb in a dark, secluded area then jumped in my mother’s arms. I was happy like never before as I observed my mother’s smiling face in front of me, after what took place earlier today. Did you have fun with Ms. Channelle? my mother asked while reaching for the plastic bag in my hand. What’s that Boop? Ooh she gave you some clothes.

Yeah mom, can I try them on? I asked.

Yeah go ahead, she insisted.

Out of curiosity, due to the quietness in our home, I asked my mother, where dad at?

Sitting back on the couch in a relaxed and stress-free zone, my mom just hunched her shoulders slightly as if to say don’t know, don’t care.

Acceptable answer I thought. I hope he never come back, I mumbled.

Me too, my mother replied.

Can I wear this one tomorrow mom?

If that’s what you wanna wear, she responded.

I playfully walked through the living room as if I was on a male runway, modeling new school clothes for juniors. I’m laughing while homeboy strutting, making my mother smile happily as she enjoyed the moment. Then suddenly a car door slammed. We paused for a minute and just that quick the happy mood changed. Moments later, the front door of our freshly rented row house swung open, only for us to see who else walk through the doorway, Veto. He carried a Chiquita fruit box in with him. He was a union worker at the Port of Wilmington, earning every bit of seventeen to twenty-seven dollars an hour, five to seven days a week.

Here, take this box in the kitchen, he demanded after dropping the box in front of me.

Smiling at my mother, Veto walked over to kiss her then he took a seat next to her. Some big Italian guy was with him also. He took a seat on the recliner then opened a can of beer he pulled out of the brown paper bag that he carried on him.

How you feel baby? Veto asked my mother.

I’m alright. How was work? she responded while acting concerned just to ease the tension she felt wanting to rise.

Veto’s days must’ve been hard at work because when he came home from work his attitude was normally in the mode of a ticking time bomb. He just couldn’t wait to find something to fuss about.

Dad I went to a cookout today with Ms. Channelle, and she gave me some new school clothes, I spoke as if he cared.

Oh yeah, he spit back looking like he hated me. I felt the vibe so I grabbed my outfits then headed up to my bedroom.

Are you ready for your bath? my mother asked after sneaking up behind me. She tickled me then fell with me on the bed, the whole time laughing and expressing her motherly love.

Yes mommmeeeee, yes, I blurted loudly, smothered in laughter.

As she went to go run my bath water, I drifted off into a daze while sitting on the foot of my bed. Staring around the tiny, wood paneled back room, I wondered deeply and wished for a home sweet home… .

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Bitch what the fuck did I tell you?

Veto I just came in the house right before you. I didn’t have time to fix you lunch, my mother pleaded.

Bitch where the fuck you been at? You been with that big, black, ass nigga all day? Is that why my lunch ain’t ready yet bitch… huh? Veto shouted as he smacked my mother around the living room.

No Veto stop, please stop, my mother pleaded.

Bitch, take your motherfucking clothes off, Veto shouted.

What? My mother responded in shock.

Take your motherfucking clothes off bitch… you heard me, Veto snapped then roughly ripped my mother’s blouse off and began yanking her pants down.

My mother cried helplessly and continued to plead with him in hopes of him stopping, but Veto was too far gone in his Ike Turner zone to listen.

Quickly, I banged on the window where I watched from the porch. Daddy, please don’t hurt my mom, I begged.

Boy what the fuck you doing home so early? I could tell Veto was pissed even more from the sight of me, as he moved towards the front door. As soon as it opened, he snatched me in the house.

Why the fuck is you home from school so early? You got suspended again this week? he threateningly questioned while making sure my eyes stared directly into his, which were bloodshot red.

No we had a half day, I responded with a hard swallow.

Well go up to your room. Me and your mom talking right now, he instructed.

I wanted to go over and hug my mother so I stepped one step at a time with a sad puppy dog expression on my face.

I’m alright Boop, my mother softly spoke as to assure me mommy can handle it, but I knew that she couldn’t handle the situation, at least not for much longer.

Sitting at the foot of my bed with my feet swinging, I listened to every word of my parents’ conversation. I could hear my father as he apologized for his misbehavior. As always, my mother found it in her heart to forgive him. Veto kissed my mother then headed out the front door. He was only home on a forty-five minute lunch break so he had to go back to work. Meeting me at the bottom of the steps were embarrassing arms as my mom’s tight hug expressed a sign of hurt, pain, and a sigh of relief. Again, she assured me she was alright and that pretty soon all of the madness would be over. By me having so much faith and belief in my mother’s words, I trusted her every verbal promise. To assure her of that I kissed her right cheek, gave her a big hug, and then strongly spoke, I love you mommy.

Aww, at least somebody loves me. I love you too Boop and don’t you ever forget that o.k.? my mother hugged me.

I won’t mommy. Guess what I did in school today?

What Boop? she questioned eagerly.

I colored this for you. I handed her a picture.

Ooh, thank you. It’s so pretty.

It was a picture drawn by me of me and my mother standing in front