Christmastime was coming. I didn’t even know what that was. I was six years old, and had never had a Christmas.

Then the cop said, “Now, you guys could just start over. At least you’re not going to jail tonight.

I ran back into the emergency room crying, yelling, and screaming, “Somebody please help my mother. He is going to kill her!

I forgot about his boys surrounding me. I was too focused on not getting stabbed with the broken bottle.

I went home later that night, thinking about everything. I wanted revenge for my cousin, but what did I know about revenge?

After that everyone understood that if they had to fight me, it was going to take a while, and like all bullies, they wanted an easy target.

K.C. wanted to look fancy for the crowd. I just wanted to kick his ass and embarrass him in front of everyone, to get him back. I did just that.

Fuck that! You think I’m gonna let the nigger get a gun? I’m gonna handle this shit now.