The Little Black Book

“Dad... I’m telling you…just hear me out. This is the one that’s going to hit big! Everything seems to line up perfectly. The numbers, the projections, the contracts. I’ve spent hours doing res-

“ENOUGH! his dad shouted. I can’t sit here any longer and watch my son waste away his money on fantasies. MY fucking money. I’ve believed in you, I really have Marcus, but I’m tired now. I’m tired of the same old speech and the same old you. It’s time to change and get a real job like a real man. Tell me, go ahead and fucking tell me, how much have you actually made for this family?”

“Well... I uh… a few of months ago I made a couple hundred but then lost some of it because that’s how stocks work, you see if I can just show you my numbers in my bo-

“FUCK your stupid little black book, Marcus’ dad screams as he smacks it out of his hands. His dad now furiously holding the book in the air says, this is not going to make you successful. It’s not going to provide for this family and it sure as hell won’t provide for your future family. Did you honestly think you could just write down numbers and your dreams would just appear out of nowhere? I broke my back and spirit just to provide for you. I worked endless hours and multiple jobs just to put food on the table. Just so YOU could waste it on stocks. I can’t even believe……”

Marcus couldn’t hear his dad anymore as he continued to lecture him. He slowly drifted away from the words that he knew, deep down, had truth to. His dad is the hardest worker he knows and understands his perspective. Growing up in a poor family that had nothing, he created a family that has something. How could he accept his son risking all his money on something that isn’t guaranteed success? Marcus didn’t think that way, though. He didn’t know when or how, but he knew he was going to succeed. This feeling didn’t come from an old wise tale or some bullshit ad he saw on the T.V. This feeling is real and it’s with him all the time. It’s in his numbers and his work… it’s in his little black book. His mother would always say, “Stocks are like your desired dreams. There’s going to be ups and downs to get what you want but what it really takes to get there, is how much you believe in your data, in your stock, and in your self”. She worked as a bank broker and taught him all about stocks every night after dinner. “So, you mean to tell me I can make $10,000 profit when the value reaches $7.50 on this bad boy? His mother laughing at Marcus’ eagerness responds, “Well yes but don’t jump to the moon just yet. Stocks take patience and an understanding that the market can change at any moment.” Marcus missed those nights with his mom. She had an elegant beauty with a warm presence. You could listen to her voice for hours without losing interest, even if it were a conversation about cow poop. And when it came to stocks, Marcus couldn’t imagine learning or doing anything else. That wasn’t the case in his reality, though. When his mother died, he had no choice but to find full-time work at the grocery store near home. His scholarship to business school was cancelled and a long rough road of life had begun instead. Every fucking day was like the last. Every thought. Every emotion. Everything. It was a never-ending cycle of meaningless nothing. That is why he continues to believe. He’d rather die if he didn’t.

Marcus snapped out of his daze from a loud sudden noise. It was his dad’s fist breaking the mirror behind him, inches away from Marcus’ ear.

“Can you hear me now?! his dad screams as his hand now begins to drip blood on Marcus’ pants.

“Wh- what the hell are you doing?! I was dazed and out of it. I didn’t mean to do it… I’m sorry ok?”

“You’re sorry, huh.. Marcus’ dad says as he giggles in a psychotic manner. I’ll show you sorry.” His dad looking more furious than ever, picks up the little black book again and walks over to the kitchen window, throwing aside the chairs that were in the way.

“No! Marcus screams trailing behind his dad while pulling on his arm to stop him. Don’t do it, please, don’t do it!” But it was too late. His dad opened the window and tossed away the one thing that was keeping his spirit alive. The one thing that was always by his side since his mother died and gave him light whenever there was darkness. He felt sick to his stomach and out of nowhere, an indescribable sharp pain jolted down his spine. It was terrible. It was as if a part of him was ripped out of his back and consumed by the alleyway beneath. He didn’t care though. All he knew is that he needed to get his book back. Without hesitation, Marcus with dried tears all over his face got up and stormed for the door. As he’s about to walk out, his dad says in a stern yet much softer tone than before, “If you walk out of that door, you aren’t coming back.” Marcus didn’t even turn around to look his father in the eyes and instead, he slammed the door behind him.

It was getting dark outside but still light enough for Marcus to make his way through the alley. Drug addicts and prostitutes usually fill this area at night but luckily for him, prime time wasn’t for another 2 hours. The pain in his back grew significantly worse than when he left his apartment. “What the fuck is even going on?” annoyingly questioning his pain. “The one time I get back pain it just had to be today.” Marcus was almost halfway down the alleyway now, looking up every other second to find his apartment window to track his books fall. “There it is, he said. It’s gotta be around there somewhere.” The light to his kitchen was still on. I wonder what my dad’s thinking right now, Marcus thought to himself. I feel bad for leaving him like that. He never used to have all this anger and he used to love his job. Ever since mom died, he’s lost all his patience and turned to drinking. I love him so fucking much. He may never accept this but I’m not just doing this for me and my mother. I’m doing this for him.

Marcus determined more than ever now, continued to walk towards the area under his apartment window. But before he could walk any further, another jolt of pain 10x greater than the last hit his back like a bullet. His legs buckled beneath him, sending him flailing to the ground. His entire lower body was sent into shock, only leaving his upper body able to operate. After short realization, Marcus knew there was nothing left to think about. He began to crawl with both of his arms as his legs dragged behind him. Each stride was like swimming in a pool full of broken glass and dirty syringes. The pain in his back grew stronger by the second and he was beginning to have trouble breathing. “Am I really dying right now, Marcus says nervously, am I really fucking dying?! I’m almost there god dammit, move it you weak ass piece of shit!”

Marcus nearly entering the area now, frantically looks around for his little black book. There was no sign of it anywhere. Could someone that was down here have taken it? Could it have been eaten by rats? Could this all be a dream and I’m just about to wake up? Multiple questions flooded Marcus’ head and the paranoia soon turned to hallucinations as the pain got worse. He was seeing black and then white. Blue and then red. Apples and then peaches. His ability to speak was now as functional as a sea otter. The only thing that was allowing Marcus to slowly make movement was his will to survive and succeed. His brain, when it came to perseverance, never gave up on him.

I’m almost there I can feel it, Marcus thought to himself. Just a little more and- woah! A different sensation hit Marcus in the back this time, it was neither pain nor pleasant. But he’d much rather deal with this version. It was as if there was an army of neurons inside his spine battling the bad pain away. The sensation was now slowing down and so was the hallucinations and pain in his back. Marcus was able to focus visually now, hypothesizing the possible landing site his book could be at. There! he shouted, now able to speak coherently. As the pain decreased even faster now, his legs began to gain back minimal function and allow him to crawl even faster. 20 feet away. 15 feet. His body was now recovering faster than it had degenerated. The closer he got to his book, the stronger he became. The adrenaline rushing through his body was immense. With both hands flat to the ground, he attempted to stand and was successful. 10 feet away from his book now. He was walking like a zombie as if he spent a whole lifetime sitting. Each foot closer, his strides grew stronger and stronger, finally standing over his most precious possession.

Marcus filled with a sense of relief, bent down to pick it up. His little black book didn’t feel so little anymore. It felt bigger than the world. Bigger than anything he could ever comprehend in his existence. A sudden burst of energy flowed through his entire body and what was before a dark alleyway, was now filled with a mesmerizing light. He opened his book and what he saw next, left him speechless. All his work was gone and instead, $20,000 was written in big font across the middle of each page. Marcus was fascinated and confused all at the same time. Flipping nervously through each page in disbelief he says, “What is this… is this even my book?!” Marcus already knew the answer to that question. It was his book. He could spot it from a mile away if he had to. But none of this made sense.

It wasn’t until the last page where Marcus connected it all. Everything he has been through and felt over the years since his mom died, all made sense to him now. Tears rushing down his face, he read to himself the words written on the very last page. “Stocks are like your desired dreams. There’s going to be ups and downs to get what you want but what it really takes to get there, is how much you believe in your data, in your stock, and in your self”. His mother’s spirit lived in this book and that’s why his belief in his success continued to live in him. She was trying to tell me something with that number and Marcus didn’t even have to check to know what it was. His hands shaking from excitement, he pulled out his phone that’s been tucked away all day and went to his financial portfolio. With both arms now hugging the book to his chest, he raised his head to the sky, tears rushing down his cheek. His stock increased over 1000% today. He made 20. Thousand. Dollars.