As my mother lay there on the ground in a bloody puddle, my eyes start to water. Before I could kneel before my mother's cold dead body, I hear footsteps coming towards my mother and I. I ran and hid in a small cluttered corner. The men came into the room and they looked around to see if there was anyone else in the house. "Aye bro did you hear that crashing noise," One of the men said. He was tall, standing at 6'5, had a caramel skin complexion and he was tatted down, he kinda looked like Wiz Khalifa. "Hell naw bruh ian hear shit," The other man had said as he lit a freshly rolled blunt. He looked around while puffing on it. He was short, he kinda reminded me of a uglier version of Kevin Hart with cheap tattoos. I felt my legs start cramping so I tried to position them a different way without making any noise but I accidently knocked over an old toy of mines mixed in the clutter. It rolled all the way to the man puffing the blunt foot, as he bended over to pick it up, a group a young boys came in dressed like janitors. "I want this shit cleaned up before anyone gets here!!" The short fat nigga said as he puffed on his second blunt. I watched in horror as they picked up her pale body and put it in a body bag. While they were cleaning up I tried to crawl to my room so I could climb out my window to get help but I thought wrong.
