Harry POV
I was walking down the cold alley on Bolton Avenue. It was a brisk evening and the wind was sifting through my gloves, making my hands numb. Living on the east side of our city isn't easy. Life itself is not easy for the common poorman, which is what we are called by the people on the west side of our city. Our side of town is basically the dumps. No nice houses, no nice cars, no tuxedos or suits, and definitely no limousines or long fluffy winter coats. Living on the west side is unbelievably easy. They got it made for them. Anything you can think of. Beer blasts (huge parties with tons of alchohol), long stretch limousines taking kids to school everyday, nice clothes, giant houses, and almost everyone has a smartphone including 8 year olds. Think of it this way, our side of town is stuck in the past, and the other side of town is stuck in the future. Our town is completely different. Our personalities are different than theirs. Our hair, the way we look, just everything. I can't think of anyone that is friends with someone on the other side of the city. They despise us, and we despise them. They don't give anything to us. They shove things in our faces and tell us we can't afford them. All we can do is steal things from shops and smoke cigarettes. It's the daily life of a poorman.
I returned home to my family. They weren't my actually family, as my real parents had left me on a doorstep when I was born. But I like to call them my family, since they were the ones who cared for me. The only people who cared for me even just a little bit. I walked into find my moms face scarred up. I cried and screamed "WHO DID THIS TO YOU?". She failed to talk and she just lied herself on the floor, crying. I screamed at her to get answers. I needed to know what had happened to her. Whoever did this, would be killed. I am going to kill the person who did this to my mother.
"It...", she started to mumble her words.
"It... was"
"It was your father."
