I have never thought about being poor. I guess it has never crossed my mind that I was poor....really poor. That is, until I met Ramon. Ramon walked past my shack-like house. He stopped and stared with a confused look. I stood in the corner watching him examine my house. Ramon was dressed in a maroon suit with a dark purple tie. He had shoes on probably the cost of my tiny house and sunglasses that totally blocked out his eyes. The only reason I know who he is, is because he is the most notorious boy from the West side. I have no idea what he would be doing here on "normal land".
