The End of the Phrase Nigger: The End of the Phrase (N)

By Thomas Lovell

He ran toward the man, but the floor gave way, sending Vince what appeared to be two stories down into the basement. It was pitch black as he lay there for what seemed to be hours in pain. In and out of consciousness, he moaned for what appeared to be an eternity. I must be paralyzed. I cant move. He heard someone moaning nearby. Someone else was in pain. Then he heard another. Whos there?
Vince is a strong black male with no morals or conscience. He takes what he wants no matter what the cost and at who's expense if you get in his way. One day while running from the police after robbing Gold's Pawn Shop, he runs into an abandoned building, which begins to transform and the change in his life.
The End of the Phrase Nigger is a story about a young man who live a hard life on the streets as a hustler, gangster and murderer, not knowing his true worth. One day as he tries to flee a crime scene he runs into a doorway that takes him spiraling back in time. He encounters things that he will never forget which will change his (and your) life, mind, and heart as we end the phase nigger... forever.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: May 9, 2013
• ISBN: 9781481736015

Thomas Lovell

Thomas Lovell is an author residing in Bedford Stuyvesant, Brooklyn, NY. This is his first novel written with the intention of opening the eyes of the readers to the importance in recognition of the heritage and legacy of the African-American culture. He wrote this book with the intention of reminding all of us to reflect back on our history; not with regrets but with sorrow, to serve as a reminder of how respecting your future and your identity is more important than changing the use of negative words as positive attributes to our culture.

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© 2013 Thomas Lovell. 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  07/03/2018

ISBN: 978-1-4817-3602-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4817-3601-5 (e)

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.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or, are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

CONTENTS

Introduction

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

This book is dedicated

to my 2 Queens Nachelle and Jada, the future King of my legacy, my son Thomas II, and to my stepson Stacey, a KING in his right.

I love you kids.

To my strong family who are my strength from mother Arrie Huggins, stepfather Willie Huggins to my brothers, sisters, nieces, nephews, cousins and other kin. We are a force to be reckoned with.

Also, recognition to

Sapp Construction

and

Logo.jpg

INTRODUCTION

Now this word has so many meanings and used in so many ways for good or bad. As eras past, have you noticed how so many different nationalities, cultures and races are using the word freely as a form of expression such as; a sign of someone wanting to be down, they’re a gangster, they are down in the hood, or as a form of greeting each other.

Two black personalities who are well known role models surprisingly came to Marcy Projects a few years back, and one of the personalities with great influence in black and white communities asked the other well-known personality why he would always use the word nigger? The artist states, he used as a form of empowerment. The question I ask myself is empowerment for who? Any form of empowerment show come from something used positively, not from a word with such negative meaning. If used for empowerment, it must be impowered by all black people and not with a history of abuse, enslavement, degradation place on our ancestors.

This book will hopefully help you remember where you came from as Africa-Americans, Caribbean’s, native-Americans and any other nationality, who were subject to their true identity being stripped from them and have left a legacy of descendants without an identity of who they really are.

As a father of 2 daughters and two sons, I informed my kids how their ancestors had no rights, brought here against their will, and treated like dogs. They were forced to be slaves and called the word on a regular. The word nigger was defined as a person whose life was worth less than an old mule. They were only used for hard labor, back-wrenching chores and left to die. The skin-color black, brown, or darker than a paper bag was considered sinful and automatically going to hell.

When people see my kids, I want them to see a smart, educated, young black woman or man, who are responsible, hard workers, and living their dreams when given an opportunity to prove themselves.

CHAPTER ONE

There was something strange about today. Vince couldn’t put his finger on it, but it just didn’t feel right. He brushed it off as paranoia. As he stood on the steps of his building in the Bed-Stuyvesant area of Brooklyn, he watched the people going about their business as usual. It was business as usual for him also. He stared at each person carefully, deciding who was going to be the target for today. Vince was not like the average man—in stature or mind. He looked like he was born in jail and worked out ten hours a day. He stood six feet five inches tall and weighed 250 pounds looking like Kratos from the play station game the God of War, and his heart was as black as the darkest night. Vince’s arms were significantly larger than the average bodybuilder’s. The bulk of his arms could easily match the size of a person’s head. Vince couldn’t wear average-size clothes. He even though he wore a 2X, he would buy size 3X just so the pants could slide past his gigantic thighs, but his waist was so small that he had to have the tailor cut off most of the material to get the perfect fit. He wasn’t overweight; his body was a mass of muscles, without an ounce of fatty tissue. He worked on his body for hours and hours on end. He looked intimidating, and you had to wonder what his mother was thinking about when she had him. To see him now is like night and day heavy weight Rambo he was that guy on the corner that could tell you about getting that perfect body from what to eat or how to work out among other things.

While he was watching all the prime subjects walking up and down the street, along came a woman he’d never seen before. She walked like she owned the block. She wore a yellow dress that displayed everything the good Lord had blessed her with and her body was perfect—a walking bed, as Vince liked to call women with bodies like that, firm breast and a voluptuous ass. Her mahogany-colored hair rested on her caramel shoulders. By the way her hair fell on her back you could tell she was Brazilian or Spanish. Her lips were lined with mocha brown, and the raisin berry lipstick made them very inviting.

Vince started to get aroused, which in his case was impossible to conceal, but he never cared who saw it. It was fun for him to see how the women responded to his abnormal size. He watched her every move like a panther about to strike his prey. He licked his lips as he fantasized about how he would hit that. As she walked closer and closer in his direction, she saw him staring at her. She put her head down, and Vince noticed her pace slowed down. Then she looked up and down the block. She slowly took a few more steps and then crossed the street.

What’s up? Vince yelled in her direction across the street. He saw her pick up the pace and keep walking. He watched as her ass, round and firm, tried to keep up with her stride. Bitch, I’m talking to you. She made haste to the corner without looking back.

Nancy thought to herself, what in the hell am I doing in a neighborhood like this? She was following the directions her friends had given her to meet them at a bodega in Downtown Brooklyn. Coming from Manhattan and not knowing Brooklyn at all, she got off at the wrong subway stop. She was looking for someone to give her directions to the bodega. Nancy’s first thoughts were about how stupid it was of her to even agree to meet them in Brooklyn. She came from upper Manhattan. She was the daughter of a chain food restaurant owner. Her Bentley Coupe was specially ordered and was caramel brown with deep-chocolate edgings to complement her skin tone. Only the best for Daddy’s girl, her father said when he gave it to her on her twenty-first birthday in February.

What am I doing in this hellhole? Nancy thought, furious at herself for not driving. Take the train, they said. It’s much faster. You’ll be here in no time. She really wished she would have driven. It wasn’t like she couldn’t afford to park her car anywhere. Now look at me, lost in the ghetto. Then she saw Vince down the block. Maybe he can help me, she said out loud. Even at a distance, she could feel the fire of his glare. Oh my God, what do I do? She looked around for someone else as a sign of safety. She saw no one. I’m the only one on the block besides him. I’m going to keep walking and act like I’m not afraid. As she walked closer she could see the bulge in his pants. She slowed down her pace to think. Oh, God, I don’t like this. I want to avoid any uncomfortable confrontation. I better cross the street just in case I have to make a run for it. Oh, God, why didn’t I drive?

She heard him yell something, but she couldn’t hear exactly what he was saying over the loud and fast pounding of her heart. I better keep walking because I don’t know what’s on his mind. I do know, but I don’t want to know. Just let me make it to the corner, God. Please let me make it to the corner, cause when I do I’m gonna haul ass". Yo, bitch, I’m talking to you, she heard Vince say. Oh, God, please let it be someone else. Please, please, please let it be someone else he’s talking to. She saw the corner coming closer and closer. Good, I’m almost there. I don’t hear any footsteps coming, but I’m too afraid to look. Let me just keep walking and not look back. I really don’t want to know. I really don’t want to know. Her mind was focused only on turning the corner to her sanctuary. Before her foot could make the sharp turn at the corner, she took off running as fast as she could in her $2,000 Prada’s.

Vince became angry and tried to catch up with her. Just as he made his third step, his younger brother came out of the building. Hey, nigger. Anything good going on? asked Ra.

Vince considered telling him about the girl but changed his mind. She’s probably some whore anyway. I don’t have to buy it when I can get it for free, he thought with a smirk on his face. Vince said to Ra, What up my little nigger? Ra looked up and down the block to see if anything good was worth looking at. "I heard Janice from our building works at