February 26th, (Year unknown)
Five dollars.
Five miserable dollars.
He had gotten five dollars for cleaning out his aunts garage.
He kicked a pebble down the sidewalk in agony. He'd been cleaning that shit for half a day and all he got was damn 5 bucks.
"Ayye Mathers!"
Marshall turned around and saw his good friend Roger coming down the road.
"Waddup Roge,"
They bumped fist and walked down together.
"What chu' get?"
Marshall frowned and pulled out the money.
Roger laughed. "Woah. Well Mr. Rich pants, what ya gonna do with that?"
Marshall shook his head.
"I don't know man. Maybe buy a comic down at Larry's."
They both waked quietly until Roger came to a stop.
"My buddy Franky got some good snacks, they're more than five bucks, but Ill ask him to lower the price. I'll say you're my cousin."
Marshall was quite hungry. He looked at his watch. It was only four o'clock. His mother wasn't gonna be home until later around nine and he hadn't eaten all day.
"Sure, why not?"
Roger smiled and guided him down a filthy ally.
Marshall looked around is disgust. He had never seen this specific ally.
"This way," said Roger signaling into a door at the end on the ally.
It was covered in moss. Roger opened the door and said "Ice cream delivery!"
A young man, around 19 came to the door.
"What cha' stupid ass doing down here nigga?"
"Franky, me and my cousin Marshall wanted a snack."
'Franky' was dressed in all black. His braids held back into a ponytail. He was black.
Franky took one good look at Marshall and nodded them in.
The boys followed Franky a dim room.
He opened a gym bag from the floor and dropped its contents.
Bags and bags of weed fell out.
"Make yo pick fellas. Make it quick,"
Roger immediately picked up a bag with a purple label. He opened it and Franky handed him a lighter.
He started smoking it.
"Ayye brother Marshall, chose."
Marshall knew what weed would do to him. He had lived aournd addicts all his life. He saw how badly they ended up. He learned in school...
"Naw, I'm good."
He was headed towards the door when, "Not so fast fella."
Franky was about to pull something out of his back pocket.
That's when Marshall ran as fast as he could. As fast as his legs could take him to save his life.
He ran and ran until he got home.
He shut the door and swore he was never, ever headed towards that ally ever again.
(A/N) I updated! . No racism intended. Sorry if you get butrhurt
