By: [
Po]
Genre: Modern Fiction
Warning: Writing contains strong subject matter.
They were always together, the two small boys. Always together, but always alone. The older one couldn’t have been any more than six. He was a meticulous caretaker to the younger, a boy of perhaps four. They wandered the Projects with smudged faces and clothes made for better-fed children.
The graffitied hallways and piss-stinking elevators were their domain. Cracked cement was their playground, abandoned cars and burned-out trashcans their jungle gyms. The older boy would tear howling through the buildings, running past wire-mesh covered windows and battered doors, his brother in stolid pursuit.
On that last day, they were fighting each other in the seventh floor hall. The noise of the older boys’ shrieks penetrated the cinderblock walls of my apartment, waking the baby. Grabbing her, I yanked open my door. “Get the hell outta here, you goddamned troublemakers, or I’m gonna call the goddamn cops on you!” I screamed, and the baby wailed. They blinked at me in surprise, and I spat curses at them as they gathered themselves up and shuffled down the hall, grappling each other with filthy hands for a little bit of green. A five-dollar bill, a treasure.
Read this and more at:
80.Unconditional
Comment from the Mod:
This is truly a very powerful piece! It describes in a brief manner the way gang violence affects other people in everyday situations. Some powerful emotions come from this, especially the ending, I must say. The life of two boys growing up in a city, with little to no help in their lives. A truly wonderful piece of writing that I highly suggest you read!
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