Dream Girls: Part Five

I find myself in a small, familiar room.

It’s a sacred place.

It was a place of pure imagination.

It was a place where you could view paradise.

It was a place of relaxation.

It was a place where I could be lost but not afraid.

I wish this room was more than a room again,

Why did those days ever have to go?

I wonder.


This small room hasn’t changed at all.

There’s still an unnecessary amount of white papers

With beautiful, black musical notes on it,

Stacked and spread around like skyscrapers in a city.

But wait, there’s something different about this room.

Something’s not right.

In this confined, yet marvelous city,

I see a pool of blood in the middle of the floor.

A crime was committed in here.


I’m frightened now, and I don’t know what’s going on.

I desperately look around for clues.

I don’t see the golden saxophone.

I don’t see the purple guitar.

Where did those sacred items go?

How could they no longer be here?


I rush to the window.

It’s dark outside now,

And I struggle to see anything in what seems to be the darkest of nights.

I manage to somehow see the outline of the black cathedral.

I turn to my left and something is missing.

I just see a stack of white papers.

I feel like there should be something on top of the stacked, white papers.

I just don’t remember.


I have to leave this place now.

It’s just not same anymore,

Especially with the golden saxophone no longer in its place.

I look for a door,

And I see a woman in a black dress smiling at me.

She has some glass in her hand for some odd reason,

And she’s in front of the only brown, wooded door in this room.


I remember what happened in here.

The woman in the black dress attacked me.

She’s responsible for the blood on the ground.

Did she take the golden saxophone and purple guitar?

I can’t know for sure,

All I know is that I must run away from this place.


I can’t go through the brown, wooded door

Because that would mean I would have to go through her.

So, I turn back to the window and break it.

I jump on some stacked, white papers,

And I begin to climb out of the window.

I hear the woman in the black dress start moving towards me.

I’m fearful that she’s gonna stop me.

I turn around and find her kneel down in my pool of blood.

She then starts scooping up the blood in her glass.

Then, she looks at me and smiles with her sharp teeth.

She whispers don’t run away.

Otherwise, I will regret it.


I refuse to stay in this room.

She knows this and blows me a kiss.

She whispers see you soon.

I hope I never see her again,

But something tells me that our paths will cross again.

I jump out the window,

And abandon a place I once held dear.

Everything turns black.


I wake up from a strange dream.

I can’t really remember it all that well.

I can only remember her.

She was a beautiful, frightening monster.

She was not your typical dream girl.


This is the end of part five of the Dream Girls series. Be sure to like, share and comment your thoughts on this poem!

I will be posting and sharing part six of Dream Girls on Monday!












Dream Girls: Part Four

I find myself in a small, familiar room.

It’s a sacred place.

It was a place of pure imagination.

It was a place where you could view paradise.

It was a place of relaxation.

It was a place where I could be lost but not afraid.

I wish this room was more than a room again,

Why did those days ever have to go?

I wonder.


This small room hasn’t changed at all.

There’s still an unnecessary amount of white papers

With beautiful, black musical notes on it,

Stacked and spread around like skyscrapers in a city.

There’s still no room to explore this confined, yet marvelous city,

Where time had gone mad and jazz was the only thing that made sense.


I see the instrument that made this place so special.

I see the golden saxophone.

Beautiful music came from this golden saxophone,

It created such a glorious empire in this small room.

I want to touch the golden saxophone,

But I stop myself.

I cannot touch or move this sacred item

That once belonged to the person that created this once special kingdom.


I see another instrument that was part of this majestic, forgotten world.

I see the purple guitar.

I smile at it and pick it up.

I grab the pick and strum the strings on the purple guitar.

I hoped that the sounds of the strings would make this small room a place of pure imagination again,

But it could not do that.

Only the golden saxophone had such a power.

I wish sweet jazz in the golden saxophone would come back once more in this room.


I go towards the window,

And see a black, grand cathedral under construction.

It’s intimidating and frightening that it’s reaching unimaginable heights.

I look to my left,

And I see a red Bible placed on top of stacked, white papers.

I reach out to grab it,

When all of a sudden I’m tackled and taken down.


I hit the floor hard on my back,

And someone is on top of me.

It’s a woman in a black dress.

I look at her face,

And I can’t seem to recognize her.

This is someone new.

She is beautiful, but she does scare me.

She smiles at me with her sharped, fanged teeth,

And she bites my neck.


I scream in pain,

As my blood is pouring on sacred ground.

I can’t breathe now.

She laughs at me and continues biting my neck.

Then, she stabs me in the heart with her sharp, animal-like nails.

I cry as the pain is too real.


She suddenly stops and starts kissing my bloody neck.

Then, she comes to my ear,

She whispers don’t run away.

Everything turns black.


This is the end of part four of the Dream Girls series. Be sure to like, share and comment your thoughts on this poem!

I will be posting and sharing part five of Dream Girls on Thursday!

Dream Girls: Part Three

I find myself lying on a king-sized bed.

I notice that everything on the bed is black,

The sheets, the pillows and the bed frame.

Every part of this bed is black.

I try to sit up, but it’s a struggle.

It’s not painful in any way,

But it’s like a weight is forcing me to stay down.

It’s like I’m not meant to rise from this bed.

I’m only meant to lie on this bed.

I miraculously manage to sit up,

However, I fear that I have broken some unspoken rule.


I look around the room,

And I see that I’m in a room of luxury and comfort.

I think I’m in a hotel room.

There’s a chandelier in the middle of the room.

A dark blue carpet that was comfortable to my bare feet.

It looks like the ocean.

The walls had a nice, maple brown color.

On the walls, there is a painting of some sort.

It’s a painting of some black-sanded beach.


All of sudden, a door opens from behind me.

I turn around and see a beautiful woman in a white robe.

I look at her face and instantly recognize her.

There’s no one like her.

She also has a glass of something red in her hands.

It could be juice or possibly wine.

She smiles at me, and I smile back at her.

I’m happy to see her.

The door closes on its own,

And she walks towards me with the glass.


When she reaches me, she raises the glass of red liquid to my face.

She wants me to drink the red liquid.

I’m unsure, but she begs me to just trust her.

I trust her with my heart.

I grab the glass and consume every drop of the red liquid.

It’s not necessarily good to me.

It’s a little sweet, but the red liquid is mostly bitter to me.


The worst thing happens to me after I’m done drinking the red liquid.

I fall to my knees as pain surges my body.

I start coughing blood,

And my vision starts to blur.

My head starts pounding and pounding,

And I collapse head first on the ocean-like carpet.

I can’t move at all.

I’m scared and worried about what’s going to happen next.


I start feeling kisses on my cheek.

It’s from her.

They soothe me and feel wonderful.

Then, she whispers something strange in my ear.

She says that we’ll see each other again.

She hopes that the tide will be in my favor.

Everything turns black.


I wake up from a strange dream that I can’t help but remember.

My mind is confused.

I don’t know what to think about her.

I don’t know what to think about the familiar dream girl.


This is the end of part three of the Dream Girls series. Be sure to like, share and comment your thoughts on this poem!

I will be posting and sharing part four of Dream Girls on Monday!













Dying Too Soon

I fear that death is around the corner, but you try to assure me that I’ll be fine

Can I really trust you?

I’m not sure anymore.

Madness is creeping over my shoulders.

Darkness is facing me with a smile on its face.

Where are you at though?

Thou is everywhere, but thou is nowhere in my sight.


Maybe I’m too lost in my own thoughts.

Maybe my mind is playing evil tricks on me that I know not of.

Then again, how close am I to death?

Can you give me an answer?

Or is your silence the only answer you can give me right now?


I’m in a place that I don’t even recognize.

It’s a place that I never expected to be in but I knew of it.

How did I end up here?

I thought I did everything right, but I was wrong.

I didn’t do enough for you or even myself.

Now, my regrets torture and plague my dying soul.


I need you right now, but you’re still silent.

Death has me in my grasp, but you remain silent.

The footsteps of death itself are deafening.

There’s nowhere else for me to go.

All I can do is wait for death to introduce itself to me.


Please don’t let me die right now.

I’m not ready for what comes after.

You know that, right?

You have to know that.

Please, I need you right now.

Give me a chance to make things right in this world

Please, you have to understand.

I am dying too soon.



Silence in a Dark Place

I’m alone in the dark with nowhere to go.

I aimlessly run forward further into the darkness.

I long to find an ending.

I hope it’s of comfort and warmth, but I fear it will be an unfamiliar place.

A place of nightmares.

A place of suffering.

A place of terror.

A place of horror.

How could one survive such a place?

I pray for an answer, but I get no response.

God’s silence is deafening.


I’m running but to no purpose.

There’s nothing waiting for me but total darkness.

Yet, I still run, but I don’t know why.

I want to stop, but I can’t.

I’m coughing blood, and I start slowing down.

My body wants me to stop, but I can’t.

My spirit just keeps pushing me.


I start crying because I know what’s going to happen.

I know how my story’s going to end.

It will end with me not making to my destination.

It will end with me not knowing what I was running towards.

I wonder if I was even close.

Or was I too far away from the light at the end of this never-ending tunnel of darkness?

I pray to God again one last time for answer, but I get no response.

There’s only silence in a dark place.


The Green Mask: Part One

It’s the summertime for Matthew, but it is hard for him to enjoy the summer. He had moved from another state last year, and he had a rough year at his new school. It was the sixth grade for Matthew. He had a hard time making new friends and adapting to his new school. Although Matthew wasn’t bullied or rejected by others at his new school, he found himself tormented by his past at his old school.

At his old school, Matthew was bullied because he was different from others. The kids there would hurt him physically and verbally, and teachers could not or rather would not do anything about it. One kid in particular that pushed Matthew to the edge was Bryan. Bryan was like most of the kids at Matthew’s old school, but he had red aviator sunglasses that made him stood out from the rest. These red aviator sunglasses with a silver lining made Bryan royalty among his peers, and he was adored by them. Bryan would eventually cross paths with Matthew, and he would hurt him in ways that pushed Matthew towards vengeance. Matthew would eventually have his revenge, but it would come at a cost. Matthew would lose his innocence, condemn Bryan to a terrible fate and bear the red aviator sunglasses.

Now, Matthew is walking alone in his nice neighborhood. He sees nothing but a red world around him thanks to the red aviator sunglasses. For Matthew, it’s a blessing and a curse having these sunglasses. He constantly sees the true, dark colors of his world, and he can ever forget the truth. Even when he doesn’t wear the glasses, he still remembers the truth. It’s imprinted in his mind, and he longs for the red world to be out of his mind. Sadly, it’s impossible for Matthew. He can never escape the red world because of his experience at his old school. Matthew can only hope for a miracle to change his perspective of the world.

As Matthew is walking, he can’t help but think about Bryan, the reason he had these red sunglasses. Matthew recalls how Bryan was scared of getting suspended and being home. He cried that his father was going to kill him, and he was begging for forgiveness. Matthew didn’t care about his tears because he wanted his revenge. Now, Matthew worries about Bryan because he realized that Bryan had a genuine fear of his dad. Matthew didn’t know all the details, but he knew that Bryan’s father wasn’t a good man. He was a father that would hurt his son in unimaginable ways.

Matthew continues his walk, but he quickly notices that he’s about to pass Sal’s Ice Cream Shop. He loved the ice cream there, and he knew that he had to get a large, vanilla cone. He walked towards the ice cream shop and noticed there was a long line. Matthew went to the back of the line and excitedly waited for some of Sal’s ice cream. A few minutes later, it was finally his turn to order a vanilla ice cream cone. Matthew ordered a vanilla ice cream cone, paid for it and received it in seconds. Matthew took his ice cream cone and decided that he wanted to go to the park. He was considering to eat his ice cream at Sal’s, but he saw that he was making some people at the ice cream shop uncomfortable. So, he just decided that it would be best to eat his ice cream somewhere else.

Matthew walks to the park and notices right away that no one was there. He was thrilled. He was excited to have the park all to himself and to be alone with his thoughts. Then, Matthew goes towards the swings and decides to sit down on a swing. He starts swinging a little back and forth and continues to enjoy his ice cream. As he finishes it, Matthew hears the laughter of other kids having fun together. Matthew thinks to himself, “It must be nice to have friends.”

As the sun starts to set, Matthew takes off his red sunglasses and begins to cry. He tries to stop himself, but he can’t. His tears are uncontrollable. Matthew can’t understand why he’s crying all of a sudden, and he hates it. He despises the tears that are coming down his face, and he wants them to desperately stop. Matthew starts to have a hard time breathing. He can hear his heart pounding rapidly in his body, and he doesn’t know how to stop it. Matthew closes his eyes and prays to God. He prays for God to calm him down and help him pull himself together. Before he can finish, a hand touches Matthew’s shoulder and says, “Whoa, whoa, whoa. There’s no need for that, I promise you. I got you, bro. Just relax and take a deep breath.”

Matthew listens to the child-like voice behind him, and he starts to relax. Suddenly, a wave of relaxation and comfort flows through Matthew in ways he couldn’t imagine. Matthew decides to take a look behind him, and he sees a little kid. The little kid is around the same age as Matthew. The little kid is wearing some yellow tennis shoes, blue shorts and a yellow T-shirt. However, the little kid was wearing a tiger mask that was covered in yellow. It was weird and bizarre to Matthew, and he gathered in his head that this kid’s favorite color was yellow.

After Matthew takes in all the yellow the kid was wearing, he thanks to the kid for his advice and for helping him calm down. The kid responds, “Oh, it was no problem, bro. I’m happy to help. Do you mind if I sit next to you on the swing.”

Matthew tells him that it’s fine, and the kid proceeds to sit next to him. Then, he says, “By the way, my name’s Goldie, but a lot of people just call me the kid in the yellow mask.”

This is the end of “The Green Mask: Part One.”

Also, be sure to check out the short story “Red Aviator Sunglasses: Parts One and Two” on the Dark Colors series, if you haven’t already. That short story will provide great context for this short story, and each part can be found in the Table of Contents page on the Warfield Zone.

I will be posting part two of “The Green Mask” on Thursday.



My Recurring Nightmare

Why do you always want to hurt me in the worst possible way?

What did I do to ever hurt you?

For years, I believed in you and me, and I didn’t care what others said about you.

They didn’t know you like I knew you.

That’s what I always said to myself, but I realize now that I was deceived.

You always promised me that you would change, but you never did.


False advertisement, I guess.

Why did you lie to me for years?

Why do you continue to lie to me, when I know the truth?

Is it just easier to hurt me with your lies?

Can you only lie to me?

Is lying to me the only thing you can do to me?

Or have your lies become your truth now?

How can I love you, when I’m too tired to?

I’m tired of giving you everything, while you give me nothing.

I’m sorry, but my love to you is conditional.

I remember when it was unconditional, but you proved to me that it wasn’t.

How can my love be unconditional when all I saw was your dark side?

How can my love be unconditional when all I saw was your addiction?

How can my love be unconditional when all I saw was your anger?

How can my love be unconditional when all I saw was your excuses?

How can my love be unconditional when all I saw was your hatred?

How can my love be unconditional when all I saw was your destruction?

How can my love to you be unconditional?

Why can’t you let me go?

Can’t you see that my life’s better without you?

Can’t you see that I’m happier without you?

No, you never will.

Nor will the world.

They tell me that I have to give you chance after chance because of who you are.

They tell me that I have to honor you because of who you are.

They tell me that you love me because of who you are.

They tell me that I have to forgive and forget because of who you are

They tell me that I have to have you in my life because of who you are.

They tell me that I have to turn the other cheek because of who you are.

Well, I must ask when is enough enough?

Please, I just want to be free from your grasp.

I want to enjoy a life without you.

Can’t the world understand that?

I can’t lie, I do genuinely love you.

Without you, I wouldn’t be here.

However, you’re the worst.

It hurts me to say that, but it’s the truth.

You bring out the worst in me, and I want no part of you in my life because you’re toxic.

I know you won’t see these words or care about them at all.

You’ll just consider this poem a lie to who you are.

In your eyes, you’re the best with no flaws.

You were just dealt a bad hand, and I have to understand that.

Sadly, I refuse to understand that truth of yours.

How long will this go on?

How long will you continue to blame the past?

How long will you continue to blame life for who you are?

How long will you continue to give me false hope?

How long will you continue to disappoint me?

How long will you continue to give me promises that you can’t keep?

How long will you continue to abandon me?

How long will you continue to deceive me?

How long will you continue to have no knowledge of who I am?

How long will you continue to be my recurring nightmare?

This is the end of the poem “My Recurring Nightmare” in the Nightmares series. Be sure to like, share and comment your thoughts on this poem.

Tomorrow, I will be posting another poem on the Warfield Zone!

My Dark Side

As I said in the previous post titled “You Smell Like Apples,” I found myself thinking about my times in high school. Today’s story titled “My Dark Side” is about the best and worst of times that I had in high school. I found myself in a scary, dark place that I never expected to be in high school, but I’m thankful for it because it helped shape who I am today in a way. It’s a story that helped me embrace my dark side.

It was 10th grade, and I was sitting in Honors English class. I remember that I wanted to keep to myself because I wasn’t in a good mood. I was being ignored by someone that I cared about, but I didn’t understand it. I was trying to figure out if I had done something wrong to hurt this person, but it was hard to tell. The more I thought about it, the more confused I got because I had done nothing wrong. If anything, this person had constantly hurt me in unimaginable ways, but I didn’t know it. I always saw the good in this person because no one else did. They just saw the bad in this person. For me, this person was righteous and had a special place in my heart. I refused to see the worst in this person because it just wasn’t possible. I was in denial.

Anyways, in English class we were in the poetry unit. We had studied and read different poems written by famous poets. Miss Beres, my English teacher, would also have us write our own poems and voluntarily read them in class. I never read my poems in class because I was kind of insecure about my poetry. I just turned my poems in to Miss Beres and never recited them. Well, that all changed this one day. Miss Beres announced to the class that we had to write a rhyme-schemed poem, and we were all required to present it in class. In addition, we had to make it deep, emotional and personal. This scared me a lot. I wasn’t trying to recite a poem a personal poem in my class, and I needed to get out of it somehow.

After class, I confronted Miss Beres and told her that I wasn’t trying to read a poem in class. I explained that I had some insecurity about reading my poetry, but she said, “Well, Isaiah, this is an environment that’s open and welcoming. There’s no reason to be scared to read your poetry. It’s necessary and a requirement for this unit that you read poetry. I can assure you that it’s not as scary as you think, and you will be fine.”

Miss Beres words really didn’t comfort me, but I knew that I wasn’t gonna get out of reading poetry to my class. I just had to suck it up and prepare to humiliate myself.

I was sitting at home, and I had just finished my math homework. Then, I started thinking about my rhyme-scheme poem that I needed to write for English class. I didn’t know what to write about. I tried to write about something happy and joyful, but I couldn’t do it. It was impossible because my mind was on the person that was hurting me. The person that I thought was supposed to love me unconditionally was hurting me. I could only think about this person and nothing else. Then, I realized what I needed to write about. I knew that I had to write about this person.

It was easy. It was easy writing about this person. It was easy writing about all the pain, sadness, despair, hurt and darkness this person was putting me through. It was easy because it was the truth. I don’t know what it was, but I found myself being truthful in my writing. I realized this person was a disease and a cure in my life. I realized that this person was never righteous. This person was wrong, but I just really wanted this person to be right. The world can’t be right about this person, it just wasn’t fair to him or to me. Nevertheless, I ended up writing how I really felt about this person. There were no lies in this poem, only the truth.

The next day, I was in English class about to read my rhyme-schemed personal poem. I didn’t know what to expect from people in my class. I didn’t know if they were going to be laughing at me or be horrified at me. I wanted to somehow get out of reading this poem, but it was impossible. I had to read this poem to my class.

After one person was done reading her poem, I ended up going after her. I stood in front of the class, took a deep breathe and said the first lines of the poem. I read, “You were never a righteous person.”

It was a struggle to go through this poem, but I managed. I went through all the stanzas and made it to the last line. I looked at the last line of the poem and read, “But you are my dark side.”

There was a pause, and I didn’t know what to think of it. Then, I received a round of applause from my class and teacher. They liked the poem, and my teacher was proud that I had the courage to write and read this poem. Despite the praise that I received for this poem, there was still a certain level of discomfort and discontent I had with the poem.

This poem that I wrote and read aloud in class started something within me. It pushed me to write more poetry that I needed to write. I found poetry to be therapeutic and freeing for me. Poetry was a gateway for me to be honest and open with myself. I am thankful for what this poem did for me, but I still don’t appreciate what it did to me. It hurt me and put me in a dark place that I never intended to be in. I remember my teacher wanted me to publish and recite this poem in a coffeeshop, but I refused to because I didn’t want it out there. I didn’t want to look at it ever again.

I still don’t want to see it, and I don’t know if I ever will be comfortable with it. It’s a poem that I wish that I could erase from existence, but I know that who I am today wouldn’t be possible without that poem. Maybe one day I’ll share it on here, but I doubt it. I hate it, but I love what it did for me. It brought out the worst in me, but it helped me bring out the best in me. This poem wouldn’t be possible without the person that hurt me in the past. Sadly, this person continues to hurt me in unimaginable ways, but I’ve managed to have this person not be essential part in my life. In the end, this person was and will always be my dark side.

Thank you for reading “My Dark Side.” Be sure to like, share and comment your thoughts on this short story.

Next week, I will be posting part one of a four-part story titled “Trying to Get My Hitch On” on Tuesday. Then, I will be posting part two on Thursday.

I Trust You More

I can’t get her out my head, and this bothers you.

You want me all to yourself, but I want something more.

You can’t give me what I need, and you don’t want to.

You don’t want to be what she is to me.


I adore you and appreciate everything you’ve done for me.

You’ve always been there for me.

You’ve always been loyal to me.

You’ve always been my protector.

You’ve always been my guide, but when do I stop relying on you?

I’m dying without her by my side.

It’s like I have cancer, and all you’re doing is giving me chemo therapy.


When are things gonna change?

When are you going to see that she’s the only medicine I need?

When are you gonna see that she can cure me?

When are you going to trust me?


I trust you, can’t you do the same for me?

No, you can’t, and I don’t blame you.

You’ve always been right, while I’ve always been wrong.

When I didn’t listen to you, I’ve gotten hurt in more ways than one.

You ensure that I’m safe by keeping people at a safe distance.

You assure me that I only need you because people will only hurt me.

You have my best interest at heart.

I can’t imagine being apart from you.

You’re my closest and only friend.

You tell me the less friends I have the better because all I need is you.


Nevertheless, I want her in my life, but you refuse.

You don’t even hear me out.

You just give me your answer.

You tell me to stay away from her.

You tell me to push her away.

You tell me to be patient.

You tell me to wait till I know more.

You tell me to wait for someone better, but who is better than her?


I know I need you, but I can’t keep depending on you.

I love you, and I’m thankful for everything you’ve done for me.

But I realize that I need to trust in her.

I need to believe that she won’t hurt me.

I need to believe that she’ll be there for me.

I need to believe that she’ll be the best thing in my life.

I need to believe that she’ll be better than you.

I need to trust what’s in my core a little more, but I can’t.

I trust you more.

The Black Pill: Part Three

Just to recap, Kenneth is confronted by the man in the white suit after getting kicked out of a bar. Kenneth barely learns anything about the figure, and he ends up following the man in the white suit. As Kenneth is following the man in the white suit, he passes out and wakes up in a small room with an old TV set, and a bookcase with three books in it. There’s a red door to his right, and Kenneth finds himself seated in a red chair. Across from him is a coffee table and a white chair. There’s a single window with the man in the white suit staring out of it. The man in the white suit talks about¬†The Matrix,¬†life being open into interpretation and providing Kenneth with a choice that could ultimately change his life forever. The man in the white suit sits down on the white chair, reaches into his pocket and pulls out two pills. A white pill in his right hand and a black pill in his left hand. The white pill gives Kenneth his son, while the black pill gives Kenneth sobriety, a house and a job. He presents these two choices to Kenneth and tells him to make his choice.

Now, it’s time to get into “The Black Pill: Part Three.”

It was an easy choice to Kenneth. He didn’t even have to think about it. Kenneth knew that he had to go with the white pill. It would give him what he needed. What would the black pill do for Kenneth? It wouldn’t get him his son or give him the chance to be a father to Jeremiah. He needed him close and away from Monica and Shane. The white pill was the only right choice for Kenneth.

Kenneth tries to look in the face of the man in the white suit, but it’s covered with the shadows in the room. Why can’t Kenneth see his face? He didn’t like this mystery and started wondering if he could really trust the man in the white suit. He asks, “So, you’re telling me that this white pill in your hands will give me my son?”

The man in the white suit smiles and says, “Why of course. You’re guaranteed your son the minute you swallow this pill and walk through that red door over there. Then, you’ll wake up with your son living with you. It’s that simple.”

The man in the white suit starts caressing the black book in his hands, and Kenneth starts getting a little nervous. He thinks to himself that it’s not that simple. So, he asks, “What’s the catch? Does his mom die or something?”

The man in the white suit chuckles and responds, “There’s no catch at all. Also, that’s kind of dark, why would I do such a thing? I told you that I wasn’t the Devil.”

“But you also said that you weren’t an angel.”

The man in the white nods his head and replies, “That’s true. I’m no angel, and I don’t want to be. However, I am someone that can genuinely assure you that I won’t take advantage of you. You see, if you take the white pill, not only will you have your son but you’ll also have his love. Think of it as a restart with your son. In fact, I’ll even sweeten the deal by making him any age that you want. Turn back the clock. What do you say?”

It all sounded good to Kenneth, and he didn’t have anything to lose. He is ready to take the white pill, but the man in the white suit moves his hands before Kenneth could grab the white pill. “Now hold on partner, I do have another pill in my other hand. It’s the black pill. What are your thoughts on this pill? Do you want sobriety, a job and a house?” the man in the white suit asks.

“Not interested, I want the white pill,” Kenneth exclaims.

The man in the white suit smiles and says, “Well alright then, partner. If your heart is truly set on having the white pill, then who am I to get in the way of what you want.”

Kenneth appreciated the kind words of the man in the white suit and took the white pill out of his right hand. Kenneth asks him if he has some water and the man in the white suit replies, “Don’t worry, you won’t need it. It’s easy to swallow the white pill, it’s the black pill that requires some water. It’s truly a hard pill to swallow.”

The man in the white suit giggles at his comment and watches Kenneth take the white pill out of his right hand. Kenneth has the pill, puts it in his mouth and swallows it with ease. The white pill was a truly easy pill to swallow.

“So, how old do you want your son to be in this new life with him? If you don’t mind me asking,” the man in the white suit asks.

“Well, I was thinking four years old. No, five years old. I do like odd numbers.”

“Alright then, you’ll have your son when he’s five years old. All you gotta do is walk through that red door over there and you’ll wake up to a new life with your son.”

Kenneth stands up and starts walking to the red door. He approaches it, takes a deep breathe and slowly turns the knob on the door. Before he fully turns the knob and opens the door, he turns back to the man in the white suit. He says, “Thank you for this opportunity you’ve provided me. You’re truly a kind man. If you don’t mind me asking, who are you?”

The man in the white suit is silent. He doesn’t say anything for two minutes. He finally gets out of the white seat, grabs the black book, moves to the bookshelf and places the black book next to the gray book. Then, he says with a straight face, “You’re very welcome. And like I said, I like to remain a mystery. It’s been a pleasure doing business with you. I’ll see you around.”

Kenneth didn’t understand the man in the white suit’s demeanor, but he decides to pay it no mind. He turns fully turns the knob, opens the red door and walks through it. He has no idea what to expect. All of a sudden everything is black.

“Dad! Dad! Dad! Wake up!”

Kenneth opens his eyes and finds himself on the floor in a living room with a major headache. He’s feels a lot of pain in his right hand, and it feels like he has a hangover. He slowly gets up and realizes that he’s in his old apartment. He looks at a mirror and notices that he’s younger, possibly in his 20s. Then, he looks down and notices a five-year-old boy in front of him. He instantly recognizes the boy. It’s Jeremiah, his son. He kneels down to his level and starts tearing up. Jeremiah is confused and asks his dad if he’s okay. Kenneth responds, “Baby, I’m more than okay. You’re here with me and that’s all that matters.”

He embraces Jeremiah and holds onto him tight. Kenneth finally has his son. Kenneth can finally be the father that he wants to be for Jeremiah.

This is the end of “The Black Pill: Part Three.”

Be sure to like, share and comment your thoughts on this story.

On Thursday, I will be sharing the fourth and final part of “The Black Pill” only on the Warfield Zone.