Saint sat in his bedroom smoking as he looked out the window. He did this routinely. Wake up, smoke, go to school, smoke, sit in his room, smoke some more, sleep, then do it all again the next day.
Sighing he put out his blunt, grabbed his gun and walked down the hallway decorated in blue wallpaper, ignoring the creaking floor boards, to the living room where his foster mother sat watching tv. Tameka Jackson was an older black woman who took the young boy in around three years ago with her late husband Benny. It took him a while to get use to the lady, after years of bad foster homes and being abandoned he had a hard time trusting anyone. Eventually Saint warmed up to the woman he he now called granny.
"Granny, me and the guys boutta head out, I'll be back later." Saint spoke as he put on his pair of beat up Jordan 4's.
Looking up from the tv at the teenage boy she smiles and tells he to be safe and to bring her back some food. Walking outside he makes it down the streets of Raleigh making sure to pay attention to his surroundings. He's been here in the state of North Carolina for around seven years. After he was separated from his sisters the foster family he was placed with decided to just up and leave Pittsburg. Eventually he was removed from the home after they were deemed unfit and moved homes frequently until he ended up at the Jacksons. He has no clue how they found out but he wasn't complaining he hated that house.
Making it to a house he spent most of his time when he wasn't in his room. Outside was full of people spread across the yard, some sitting on a car parked in the driveway talking, a few sit on the front porch playing cards, others sitting around the yard drinking.
"Ayy! Bro Bro!" Saint turned looking for the voice of Reggie a drug dealer he met two years ago. They were pretty close with Reggie taking an interest in the younger boy when they first met and after hearing a little about his life deciding to watch out for him. Leading to the 16 year old to constantly being around gang members and drug dealers. Also gaining some respect in his hood because if you had Reggies respect it meant something was special about you.
Spotting him on the hood of his car, Saint walked over and dapped up the 22 year old, nodding in acknowledgment to everyone else around them.
"Wassup Reg" he said with a pulling out his lighter as Reg handed him a new blunt.
"You not gon believe this shit bro bro." the older said after taking a hit of his own blunt. "I was telling niggas about how my bro can rap his ass off when he feel like it. But they was all running they mouths about how you just a kid and how I'm just gassing you up cause we cool, so now imma need you to shut they asses up."
Saint scanning the people around the house saw some looking over with skeptical looks others with just plain interest. He really didn't feel like rapping right now but his reputation was on the line now.
