"Whooo.... that woke me up.... I mean... I'm woke... I haven't been that nervous in a minute!"
"Well I'm going home."
"Come on—"
"I'm going home."
I mean I've been in shooting situations before, but not like that. I was the black, white, and blue on a target.... I could've been hit. The problem isn't that I would have died.... well that is too, but the fact I would've died by someone else's hands. I can't be murdered. It's a stereotype for young black males to be murdered. I don't want to be a stereotype. There are kids at the ages of six dying with cancer and then there's dead teens that chose to get into gang violence. It makes me sick. Being in a gang is like scheduling your death.
YOU ARE READING
Sn¡tch (ck)
Short StoryA young teen gets himself mixed up in the wrong crowd. What lengths will he go to get his life back on track?
