9:24PM
1995
You walk into the trailer park after being dropped off by the bus. You just came from your friends house down back on the north side of Michigan. The old and ran down look bringing you back to reality as where you just came from is definitely more well kept and expensive.
You hear the hollering and screaming of a man and women coming from one of the trailers. You don't find it hard to ignore it. They do this, like - every other fucking day. Honestly you pray they break up one day, it's tiring as fuck. Their screams keeping you up all night. From what you know - the man of the relationship is very unfaithful. You always hear the girls loud muffled voice going on and on about how much of a dick he is and he'll never find someone like her, so you figured maybe he cheated. And you saw him bringing TWO blonde chicks home a couple nights back. You feel bad for the girl.
The sounds of their screams become more quiet as you turn the corner.
Only about 6 more trailers away from yours, you hear music, definitely some type of rap song. You can't make out what song it is though. Looking ahead, you see a group of black men surrounding one short white man. The group of men have on all black, definitely making them look more intimidating.
You pay no attention to it until a few of the men from the rest of the bunch pick up the white man by his clothing, slamming him onto the hood of someone's car. Your eyes widen from the sudden violent action. "Get up, punk!" He demands the white boy. Your mind immediately goes to the fact that it's 6v1. How lame is that? If your gonna fight some one at least make it fair and don't bring your homies with you to help. You're really the punk if you do some shit like that.
They repeatedly kick the boy as they laugh and spit insults at him. You want to go and help but what the fuck can you do? They'll probably hurt you as well. You want to continue walking to stay out of trouble but you're honestly stuck in your tracks.
Out of no where, one man pulls out what looks like a gun. Your eyes widen even more to what you thought was impossible as your top eyelids were already reaching for the clouds.
Thankfully the guy puts the gun away. You let out a relived exhale making yourself realize you were holding your breath the whole time.
The men drive away.
You run up to the boy whose back is rested against the front of the car he was slammed on to earlier. You immediately recognize him. You've see him walking around the trailer park a few times, you aren't sure if he lives here though. You don't know his name and you've never talked to him before. "Are you okay?!" You ask worriedly. He groans. "What the fuck does it look like?" Woah,, Wow... Rude. "I was just askin'." You roll your eyes. He scoffs at you. "Do you need help?" You crouch over examining the cuts and bruises on his face. "No I don't need help, I can take care of my self. Fuck off." He speaks rudely as he prepares himself for the pain he's going to go through from trying to get up from the ground. You roll your eyes at his rude behavior. People around here are always rude. "Jesus. For someone who almost got their brains blown out, you got a lotta fuckin' nerve."
"Whatever." He tries getting up but fails. "Yeah, you need help. No one else is around, be grateful i'm kind enough to help your ass...Wheres your trailer?"
"I ain't lettin' no stranger in my fuckin' house. Fuck I look like to you?" His weak voice making him sound less intimating. "What you look like is someone who needs help. Cut the attitude and lemme help you." You reach out for his hand. He looks at you hesitantly. You push your hand further out encouraging him to grab it. He hollows out his cheeks breathing out a huff of air in annoyance. "Ight, but don't be tryin' to kill me in my own crib." He half jokes. A rush of air leaves your nose resembling a laugh. "No promises." You joke back.
