The Come Up

Chapter 1-The Runaway

You know that feeling you get when something bad is about to happen? I had one of those. And couldn't nobody tell me I was trippin. Just a couple days ago me and some of my girls were chillin by the deli after school and the deli was completely empty. A Brooklyn Deli is never empty after school. That was the go to spot. If you aint tryna snack it up before you head home then you just aint normal. Anyway, I can take a hint. If the deli is empty, that means something is about to go down. I'm just confused as to why I didn't know about it. I knew almost everything that went down on this block. Me and Trisha still ordered our bacon, egg, and cheese at like three in the afternoon. Her face had gone serious, like she felt something was off.

The block was basically empty, like everyone just walked straight home.

"You wanna come over?" I ask Trish as we walk down Rockaway Ave.

"Yo ma got food?" She asks, her mouth stuffed with her BEC. I look at her and roll my eyes.

"She got food." I say biting into mine. "Ya greedy ass." I say with a full mouth. She laughs and takes a sip of her Arizona.

"Hurry up and eat. If ma knows that we bought food when food is in the house, she's gonna kill us." I say taking another bite. We walk a few blocks down and turn on Livonia, where I live. I was expecting to harassed by the same group of boys always chillin on the corner but they weren't there either.

I look at Trisha who was now done with her sandwich.

"Where Pookie and them?" She asks looking around. That was her boo or whatever she wanted to call it. I shrug and glance around, confused myself.

"Yo we need to go inside like right now. I don't trust silence, you know that." I say to Trish. She pouts for a few moments still looking around for Pookie. I grab her hand and pull her into my yard, and begin searching for my keys. Immediately two gunshots ring out and my whole body tenses. It was as if the bullet was no more than a block away from us.

"Shit! Hurry up and get the door open!" Trish knocks aggressively panicking.

I find the keys and I've never opened a door so fast in my life. We both run in and I close it behind me and run upstairs to my window to watch. Trish was already there.

"Ma?" I yell.

I hear her voice in her room.

"Yes Chanel?" She answers with an attitude and I already know where I get it from.

"You heard that?" I question. When I walk into her room she is lying in her bed, reading another one of those books I was never allowed to read as a child.

"Yes, and if you and Trish don't move from that damn window ima beat both of you. You know those bullets can fly anywhere." She pushes her glasses up and redirects her attention to the novel.

Trish found her way to my mothers door and gave her a head nod.

"What's up, Trisha. How's your Father?"

"He good." Trish answers. "Y'all got food?" She asks with wide eyes. I laugh a little.

"You got some nerve asking me for food like I don't see bacon grease on ya lips."Mom retaliates and I shake my head and begin heading back to my window.

Another gunshot rings out, this time it sounds closer, like it's right on our block. A few other gunshots go off in response. I look at my mother desperately hoping these shots are hitting walls or dying in the air as they travel. But I know better. These days, I just hope it's no one that I know, but it usually is. Making friends on this block, especially guys, was the worse. They were always getting mixed up in the violence.