Connected

“What, Daniels?” I snapped, shoving my hands in the front pocket of my hoodie.

 

“I hope you’re not selling your product out here to this guy… or I should say boy,” I glanced over my shoulder at the kid, who slowly backed away from me. I knew he was young, but he was old enough to know what the hell he was getting himself into by coming into this part of town and even contacting me. Watching him back away from me some more, I already knew what he was planning to do, and before I could say anything to stop him, he took off down the sidewalk at full speed.

 

“God damn it, Tucker! You promised you were done with this shit!” Officer Daniels yelled at me, while pulling off his Walkie Talkie to give out the description of the kid who took off and which direction he was headed in.

 

I heard the sirens of the rest of the cop cars that always patrolled this area with Daniels. No matter what, the kid was going to get busted; he didn’t stand a chance against the cops around here. He was a noob in the drug world, even I could tell. But if I didn’t get rid of it fast, my buddy would be in trouble more, life or death kind of trouble.

 

Daniels just glared at me, “You said you were done Tucker, or should I just finally take your ass into custody?” Daniels knew my situation at home. He knew I didn’t have any money to get myself out of jail; my mother wouldn’t bail me out either. She didn’t have a dime to her name and even if she did, it would evaporate faster than water.

 

I put my hands up defending myself, hearing more sirens coming in our direction. “I’m done Daniels, swear.”

 

He let out a big breath that I could see in the cold morning air, “Get outta here,” he warned me and he jerked his head to the side.

 

“Alright man,” I muttered at him, turning around to leave, cutting through the alleyways to head back where I belonged - Bushwick, Brooklyn.

 

The morning sun was beginning to shine through the tagged buildings, marked up in graffiti. The sound of beer cans echoed through the empty alleyways as the cold wind blew around them.

 

I made my way back to the rundown apartment I shared with my mother. The cold air was hitting my face harder than before, so I pulled up the hood from my gray hoodie, to help keep warm; wishing that I had worn something heavier.

 

As I rounded a corner, I kicked an empty pop can most of the way back. Thinking about what Officer Daniels just told me, I really did need to stop dealing, or I was going to find myself in a situation I would regret. As I passed more buildings, black trash bags lined most of the front walls, just another day to show that the garbage man could give two shits about our trash. Most people considered where I lived an unwelcome part of the neighborhood and it was. You shouldn't be caught walking around here after dark, carrying any money or wearing any sort of jewelry on you. It was simple; you shouldn't come to this part of town, but if you did and you were smart, you’d carry a gun.

 

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