Through My Roots.

Chapter One.

Joshua

   I walked through the crowed halls of Kistcall High going to my next class isn't my worries right about now, all I really wanna do is go home and chill out with my homeboys. But I can hear my mom now.
"Is those gangsters gonna help you graduate, Chico? No." She would say when I get into trouble with them. She always dogging me about not hanging with them, I didn't care though. Well sometimes I do feel some type of way because at the end of the day, she's my moms.
  The late bell rung by the time I got into my U.S history class, looking around at all the faces, staring at me. Mrs.Jhonson, the teacher gave me a look, but kept teaching the class. That look told it all, I have to see her after class. I took my seat in the back of the class room, getting out my notebook to catch up on the notes I was missing this time and jots them down fast.
  "Mr.Sanchez, I need to see you in the hall for a brief moment. "  Johnson says as she walks to the door, opening it.
I sucked my teeth and rolled my eyes as I got up and out of the room.
  "Joshua, you're attendance is not really looking good." She says taking off her glasses. I look at the yellow, white and black floor tiles, the color of our school. I couldn't even look at her, without wanting to hit her, all this because I was late? No, she could have waited til the end of class to say this shit.
   "Okay, and?" I gesture for her to go on.
     "Then, when you come in. You show no effort." She says and I pop my head up real fast. Anger building up in me.
   "What do you mean by that? I come a little late but I still do my work!" I snapped, looking at her as if she was crazy.
   "You copy the work, you never try things on your own, I know you have potential Joshua, I see it in you. You have to just try harder." I sucked my teeth a shook my head. I know she's right but right now, school isn't my main focus, not since my dad passed away.  I didn't answer her just nodded my head and fix my book bag on my shoulders.
"Well, you took up the rest of my class time so I should get going." I said walking away, even though the bell have yet to ring.

After school, I walked home. My house is only a block away from the school, passing by the blacks on my way home, getting dirty looks as if I'm a scum on the street, well to them I am. You see; the Hispanics and Blacks don't really get along here where we live. They think we're stuck up and shit but we think the same for them. They think they're all that as well.
I got into my house to see my mom sitting on the couch upset.

" żEso es que siempre vas a clase tarde y no haces nada, hijo?" She asks and Spanish, which she only does when she's upset.
  "Nothing" I replied to her walking up to my room and she got up and followed me.
   "What do you mean, Chico? Do you want to end up like your father, huh?" She asks as tears stream down her face. I wanted to answer, but the words I wanted to say was caught in my throat, like I swallowed without chewing.
  "A gun took my husband, I can't lose my only boy." She says sniffling, her eyes bloodshot red. I couldn't say anything so I just walked into my room, slamming the door. Man, I couldn't stand seeing her like this but sometimes I have to do what I have to do. Even if that means selling, stealing and fighting. I have to make money some way, with a family of 6, we need the money.