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.

If Denise doesn’t have her money by Friday, you won’t even see it coming. You’ll just wake up in the hospital. Now, try me bitch.

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.