Sister Souljah - Life After Death

“The demons cannot and did not and could never give you anything good or useful at all. They cannot heal you or answer your prayers or save your soul. They cannot protect or preserve or prolong your life or alter or interfere with your death and the return of your soul to the ONE. They are only evil demons lurking, luring, and striking at the right time to utilize the MERCY that the ONE has allowed to further mislead the many lost souls. Once you or any lost souls falls for it, Shayton, who is the devil, and an evil whisperer, who makes millions of evil suggestions through his army of demons, whom he calls his sons and daughters, will mislead you to great harm. The key is, Miss Winter, without your permission, cooperation, and acceptance, the demons cannot cause anything whatsoever to happen to you. You must resist and rebuke them. Humble yourself to the ONE who created your soul and all souls and gave you life.”

Young and sharp, she spit game like a real motherfucking pimp, a lady pimp. She was doing double talk, meaning she was talking about my forever nigga without admitting that that was what she was doing. She was throwing shade on him in such a way that she was twisting his character. She was so devious she wanted me to flip on him and to believe that I made the choice to do so and she had nothing to do with it. He had done so much for me. She wanted to flip it and make it seem like he had done nothing good at all. She was redesigning and packaging my forever nigga as a powerless predator. She was like those crafty detectives that tried to get me to give up info leading to Bullet. They came at me from so many different angles all at once. I didn’t let them in. I didn’t let them win. I wouldn’t let her win either. Did she think that I preferred a life of being a boring-ass praying servant to any fucking body? Oh hell no!

“Miss Winter, I have only seven Earth minutes remaining in my MERCY to you. I want to leave you with the information that you will need in order to cleanse your heart, mind, and soul and make choices that will not destroy you any further,” she said, interrupting my train of thought. She shifted her saddle-bag strap. Now the pouch was hanging in front of her. Her hand rested over it.

“You are extremely far away from Jannah, which is Heaven in your English language. You are so very far away in terms of actual physical distance and in terms of spiritual distance, which prevents your soul’s return to the ONE who created you. If the ONE chose to do so, you could be in Jannah in an instant. But you have not earned a place on any level in all of the peaceful beautiful heavens, which is so vast that no mind can even imagine it. There is no pain, debt, deafness, blindness, paralysis, burning, screaming, breaking, cracking, hissing, plagues or viruses, crimes or torture or illness in Jannah. There are only good souls and good interaction, and beautiful rivers and elaborate comfort and most of all there is great PEACE.” She lifted her arms in a victory gesture. Guess she thought she had won me over with her talk.

“On the left hand, this realm where we are right now, in the absence of the ONE’s mercy, Ah-hum-doo-lah-lah, has not even a molecule or grain of Heaven. The same way you are Brooklyn born, the County of Kings, in the State of New York, in the country of the United States of America and all of those names accurately describe your prior location on Earth, this place where we are standing right now is first known as the Last Stop Before the Drop, the County of the Ungrateful, the State of Ignorance, and the Land of Arrogance. Population is around five hundred million, give or take a thousand or so souls depending upon their choices, prayers, and actions,” she said.

“Five hundred million!” I laughed. “You almost had me,” I lied. “But I’m the bitch who sat here on this curb for what felt like six thousand years. I was dead alone. There was no one here but me. Five hundred million, yeah right!”

“Winter, you are able to lie . I am not. So everything I say will be the truth. It is a condition of my permission to access my second mercy to you.”

“Everybody lies,” I said. She paused and didn’t reply.

“Yes, you are right. Everyone who resides in the Last Stop Before the Drop is a liar. Including you. However, I mentioned that I am not from here—”

“Then what the fuck are you doing around here? Why are you sweating a nigga who is not from your hood?”

“Who!” She balled her hands into fists and set them at each side of her waist. “I see that you don’t even know his name. How could you? You don’t even know anything about him really. Down here the real name is the name of the soul. The nickname is the name of the action. So even though you don’t care and never asked because you can only care and think and feel and concern yourself about yourself and him, the name the ONE gave my soul is Siddiqah. It means ‘believes in the words of Allah and Allah’s books.’ My nickname is Bomber Girl, ’cause I bomb the devils every time that I am not bowed in prayer or out on a mercy. I am a servant dispatched to destroy devils. Now your guy, the name of his evil soul is Lucifer 66. He is the sixty-sixth ‘son’ of his ‘father,’ Shayton, the head devil who is condemned to the Eternal Fire and likes nothing more than to invite lost souls to join him in his eternal misery. Lucifer 66’s nickname is ‘Dat Nigga,’ because a nigga is a spirit, soul, or person who refuses with all of his or her will and might to learn, grow, and change. Also, he is called Dat Nigga because he is a top recruiter for Shayton, an expert at luring souls. I really can’t believe that after your gruesome death and your periods of loss of eyesight, hearing, touch, feeling, mobility, and health that you are still talking and thinking about him,” she said to me all indignant. “Yes! Of course you are! He is the same one who you ran away with and left me for on my first mercy.” Then she laughed. “Me and twenty of my UBS chased after you. We were fighting fiercely and outnumbered by his sixty-five jinns. They still couldn’t defeat us, but definitely did slow us down considerably until we were too late to retrieve you. You had already willed to remain with him. We can defeat evil jinns, but we cannot defeat the will of a dead human’s soul.”

“All bitches talk greasy about their ex-boyfriends and baby daddies. Sometime a bitch be telling the truth, and sometime a bitch be lying for a thousand different reasons,” I said, folding my arms in front of her. She needed to know that I could and should teach her, instead of her trying to lead me around.

“ Let me put you up on game, ” Bomber Girl said, spinning on her ballet shoes. She was somehow sounding like me. She stopped spinning, landing close up in my face wearing an aggressive expression that was more familiar to me, but that she never had with me before. I liked this expression because I could see her anger in it. I was like, Yeah bitch, now you showing your real face!

“Blah blah blah blah blah!” I spit and then talked over her talk. “Wow, how could a teenager talk so damn much! I see why Dat Nigga cut your ass off. No man wants to hear all of that bullshit. It’s a real downer! How could he even keep a hard-on with you talking all of that shit. Fucking you must have been a nightmare, a total wet blanket. Fuck you if you think that I’m a stupid, dumbass, clueless, whatever! I know what a soul is. Soul is the feeling in the music, or the look in the fashion, or the style in the jewels, or the rhythm in the streets. My soul was created by my momma, who pushed me out of her big coochie after my father went in her, repeatedly.” Then I laughed a little.

“Funny you should mention Momma,” she sang softly in a melody like they were lyrics to a song, withdrawing any trace of her anger. That got me thoroughly heated.