The Rules

Chapter ONE

I'm just a kid from tha south-end-streets. Doin' what I gotta do ta keep me and my family goin'. No south streets kid has eva made it big. Not here on tha streets, not anywhere. I take care a my little brotha and olda sista alone. Since my parents got involved in a turf war I've been on my own havin' ta take care a things. Everybody knows what happens when couples go ta turf wars tagetha: they die tagetha.

My sista has somethin' wrong with ha. We don't know what. We don't got no money ta make it ta a hospital or nothin' like that. But tha west-end-streets have a ex-surgeon there and he lives close ta tha west-south borda so we went ta see him. He don't know what it is eitha, but she gotta be stayin' away from commotions, big fights, crowded places, anywhere like that or she'll be goin' apeshit on everyone.

One night back from tha store some guy pulls a silva 9 on me. My eyes widen and I put my stuff down.

"Look man, I'm just a south girl wanna get home. Spent very cent I got today."

Tha guy laughs. "You be tellin' me that you earned yo cash?"

"Okay, man, you got me; I don't got no money. You know how it goes."

"Alright, south girl, I'mma let you on, but careful out there. Not everyone's like I is." We pound knuckles and he goes on.

I pick up my stuff and hurry ta a nearby back alley. I scale a ladda, holdin' my stuff in my teeth and between my neck and shoulda. I get ta tha top a tha buildin ta find my bag how I left it. I pack all tha stuff in, sling it back on my shoulda and jump from roof ta roof. Four roofs ta front, two right. I swing through tha fourth window down on tha north wall and dump tha bag on tha chair.

"Hey, I'm home!" I call as I shut tha window.

I hear a small voice. "Sisi!"

My little brotha rushes into tha room and I pick him up, spinnin' him round. "How you doin', slick?"

"Sisi, yo go' fud?" he asks me in his 3-year-old English. I laugh and ruffle his hair.

"Yeah, I got food." I set him down ta unload tha food.

Bread tips out followed by butta, milk, eggs, matches, sausages and chocolate.

"Toklet!" my brotha screams in delight and runs fa tha chocolate, but I snatch it up.

"No chocolate til you wash yaself clean."

"Bu', Sisi! Da wada cold!"

"It always is, so get used ta it."

He runs off ta tha showa and I soon hear runnin' wata.

"Cessa! You in?" I hear from tha next room.

"Yo, Ri! I'm in, girl!" I shout back and go ova ta tha next room to find ma sista in ha chair, readin a book I found bout a week back.

"Cheers fa tha book, girl." We pound knuckles.

"Ah, don't worry bout it, Ri. Yo need sum'n ta do."

"Oh, I be gettin' plenty ta do with tha little man runnin' round here. Oh hey, did ya get eggs?"

"Ah yeah, and meat."

"Mmm, you work too hard, girl. What kind?"

"Clean."

"Man, I wish I could join ya."

"Wish you could too, girl, but, you know-"

"Docta's ordas," we chorus and laugh.

Our brotha runs in naked and drippin' wet.

"Weh da tahw?"

"Ah, sorry, little man. Left it on tha side a tha sink afta washin' up," Ri says and reaches ova to get tha towel. "Here y'are." she tosses it ta him, he jumps and catches and rubs himself dry.

I ruffle his damp hair. "Nice catch, slick."

He grins a toothless grin up at me before runnin' off ta put tha towel away and get dressed.

"So watcha up ta tanight?" Ri asks.

"Party."

"Again?"

"Yeah. Gotta earn some favas, collect favas and do favas."

"A'ight, I get it. Just be careful. Okay?"

"Okay, Ri."

"Don't get up ta no trouble, a'ight?"

"A'ight, but I ain't makin no promises, uh?"