poetic_onslaught THIS IN AN INTERESTING STORY WITH A POINT IF YALL HAVE THE PATIENCE TO READ IT. Another gunshot fired in the night of my urban neighborhood as i stare at the bottom of the top bunkbed. "did you hear that" asked my moms' current boyfriends' son from the top bunk. "yea" i responded. "dont worry about it. go to sleep. we gotta wake up early for school tomorrow". my mom woke me up in the morning for school. i was in elementary and i was acting up in class, trying to get attention like i was through out all of elementary. my teacher called my mom during lunch and told her that i needed counseling. recess came and we were playing "pop that coochie" on the playground. (us guys chased the girls around the playground touching their ass and pussy). school finished and i went home. when i got home my mom told me that i was gonna start seeing this counselor at this building close-by. i was 8 years old. my mom told me that my teacher also said that maybe i needed my dad in my life. i got mad. "she doesnt know what i need. tell her to mind her business". the next day my mom took me to some counselor. there was a 2-way mirror in the room. (there was counselors on the other side of the mirror looking at me but i couldnt see them). my voice cracked as i tried to respond to questions that the counselor asked me. we got nowhere with that counselor. one day i was walking home after school. i saw some friends of mine shooting at each other with homemade slingshots. i was finna walk around the corner of some apartments when i saw some guy on a pay phone on the corner. his eyes opened wide and he dropped the phone and ran. OH SHIT....BOOM BOOM BOOM. 3 gunshots were fired. i froze. after a few seconds i walked around the corner of the apartments. i saw the dead body twisted on the pavement with blood surrounding him. i dont know if i was to young to realize that that was a dead body or if i was in shock. i think i was in shock though because as soon as i saw the body i turned right back around and walked away. i cant remember the rest of that day....just that night. we were right about to eat and the news came on. they showed the dead body. i excitedly tried to tell my mom that i saw that earlier that day. she didnt listen though, she was too busy trying to cook, and feed us, and she was trying to do some other stuff at the same time. i let it go. living were i lived i always learned to stand my ground and to fight for what was mine. i fought a few bullies and tried to hold on....although i didnt always succeed. one day i came home after a fight in the rain and the roof was leaking in my apartment. those must've been some old apartments. we put buckets and bowls everywhere trying to keep the rain from touching the carpet. i remember the rats the size of possums that alwayz infested every apartment we lived in. i never realized how corrupt we lived...since that was the only life i knew. one day my aunt came to visit us and she critiziced the way we lived. my mom got mad. my aunt was taking me to this park near-by....but before we crossed the street we heard a loud noise....similar to a 12 guage gunshot. i looked down the block and saw a teenage male being dragged underneath a car. the car dragged the body down the rest of the block until it finally ran over the body...right in front of me. a bunch of dumbass people approached the body and started poking it to see if it was still alive. my mom came running out of the apartments and held me tight...happy that it wasnt me that got ran over. she's like my best friend. i remember times that she would throw glasses and plates at some of her boyfriends, she would be shaking in anger and chain smoking her marlboro's. cristmas came around and we spent it at one of my aunts house. my uncle came around. he was always high off something...mainly tolly, and the family never excepted him. there was a building near-by for drug addicts. it was mainly packed with heroin addicts trying to kick. unfortunately that building wasnt around back then....i dont think it was anyway. anywayz my uncle had a stuffed animal with him (which i know he stole from somewhere) and since that was my aunts house he said that it was for her daughter. she accepted the stuffed animal but still didnt let him in. later that next year, after school, my mom picked me and my cousin up and told us that he got killed. he was dumped in some woods across from a wal-mart in a black bag. the police would later tell us that he was killed over a bike. that was the first funeral that i ever attended. i touched his forehead with my finger tips. i always heard that dead bodies were cold but i never knew they were that cold. my aunt put her sweater on him and they burried him with it. he was in a gang and after his death there was a lot of gang activity surrounding the family. we finally moved to some suburbs. i was 12. i noticed something different about this place. there was no gunshots. little violence. thats when i realized how corrupt things were when i was younger. one time i was with my mom in wal-mart and i saw this c.d. that ive been wanting. i begged her to buy it for me and she finally did. after she bought it and we were in the car she told me that that money couldve been better spent on food that we needed. i cried. another lesson from my mom, whom i love dearly. in these suburbs i did what ever i wanted and joined a gang. within the first few months that i moved there practically the whole neighborhood knew me....all the teenagers and gangbangers anyway. because i always stood my ground. other gangs were always talking shit about me. that was when i was mad all the time. i was mad because i couldnt find anyone that related to me and they all thought that i was like them. "YALL DONT KNOW ME. YALL MOTHERFUCKERS DONT KNOW MY BACKGROUND. WHAT THE FUCK MAKES YOU THINK YOU'RE ON MY LEVEL? YALL ARE JUST A BUNCH OF WANNABE GANGSTERS". i remember times i crashed parties of the opposite gang and all those dumbass wannabes i talked shit too....for some reason i miss those times just as much as i miss the times i had in the "ghetto". money became and issue...as it always did, and we had to move back to the urban area, kind of close to the place that i was raised. we were carrying our stuff into our new upstairs apartment. some black guy was standing at the top of the stairs and asked me if we were barely moving in. i said "yea". he chuckled and smiled. "welcome to the neighborhood" he said sarcastically. i laughed. night time approached and we were still moving stuff in. as i was carrying some boxes upstairs i saw a crackhead right beside the stairs with his hand in his jacket like if he had a gun. he was looking around to make sure that there wasnt any people around. FUCK. its a good thing that we already moved the dresser in which i had my gun in to my room. i knew that most crackheads didnt own guns because they sold everything they had for crack so they never had money for anything else....but u never know. i ran to the dresser and got my baby 380 and stuffed it in the back of my pants. the gun dont work but i knew that crackhead was probably bluffing too. i was gonna play his game. i walked downstairs right in time to see him approaching the u-haul truck in which we had our stuff. "HEY" i yelled. he turned around with his hand still in his jacket. "its ok man im just gonna help yall move your stuff inside". dumbass crackhead. "naw we dont need your help" i told him with my hand behind my back on my gun. he realized that i had my hand on a gun because he walked away from the u-haul towards me. "well i got some c.d.'s that im trying to sell, check them out" he showed me the c.d.'s. a chill ran down my spine as i realized how the most tragic moments happen in the blink of an eye. i remembered past similar instances. "naw im not interested" i told him as i walked past him so he could see the gun behind my back. he walked away. looks like i won this time. later that week i heard a car crash and some gunshots right outside my window. i saw a car in the middle of the parking lot....just parked there. an ambulance arrived and looked into the car and started panicking as some more gunshots were fired. he ran with a limp...i think he might have been hit. the cops sirens and lights filled the apartments and the ghetto bird (helicopter) was flying close above the apartments. the helicopter was shining that bright ass light looking for the killer. about an hour or 2 later i heard some sound coming from the other side of my wall. (these walls are realy thin). some guy was stuttering in paranoia. it sounded more like he was shivering because i couldnt understand a word he said. was he the killer? my lips are sealed. i live right across the streat from a mental hospital and a few blocks down from a boys home. this area is known to b bad. but for some reason these things dont seem to be that bad. as i reminisce, it seems like all the violent stuff that happened when i was a kid, happened more often back then than they do now. are the hoods becoming less corrupt....or am i becoming more corrupt? unfortunately i think i know the answer. 020422
silentbob hoods was the place i used to go to after school to buy pop for cheap and sometiems skittles. then they raised the price and i had to find even MORE empty pop cans to recycle for the scratch.

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