Struggle for Survival

It’s been the first heat wave since 1999. Brooklyn seems extremely hot in the summer and when you live on Marcy Avenue, means you’re broke. Not a single being on Marcy can afford air conditioning so we’re forced to use fans. Luckily we ain’t living in Africa or anything. Then we’d be baking like a cake. Food is low and Mom ain’t making enough money. There ain’t even any food in the house. Mom has gone to her job by the time I wake up for school. It’s my responsibility to wake Ricky up. Ricky is my brother. He’s the little man of the house. I bang on his door.
“Ricky, it’s time to get ready for school!” I yelled.
“I’m up, Roj.” He said.
Ricky was always the one to lionize me. He knows I like to be called Roj although my full name is unfortunately Roger. I was often irresolute as to why because I’m one of the biggest screw-ups of my time. Although I’m an excellent student at Boys and Girls High, I still sell drugs. I’ve always wanted to be better than pops, but I was no better than him if I was making bread by selling. Ever since pops pulled the carpet from under mom, I’ve always had a dream that I’d be better than him. I’m making my bread for good reasons though. Ricky can’t grow up on Marcy. That’s like asking for a screwed-up life.
I then begin to look around the kitchen for some type of food for Ricky to eat. Ricky was a glutton so I had to feed him some type of food. If it meant me walking to Manhattan to get him food, then it’d have to be done. Although Ricky ate so much, he was physically immutable. He was skinny and would never gain any more than 5 lbs. in a month.
I then opened the refrigerator door and the only decent breakfast item I could find was bread and butter. I took 4 slices of bread, toasted it, and took it back out. As I applied the butter, Ricky came out of his room. He was dressed and ready for school. He wore baggy jeans, an over sized shirt, and some fresh Nike's. Ricky ate and we talked.
“Roj, you think that we’ll ever have food to eat?” Ricky asked.
“Maybe Ricky, just maybe.” I answered.
“Think we’ll ever live in house better than this dump?”
“I don’t know, Ricky. Mom ain’t making as much money as she should be. You know she’s been sick and stuff.”
“Yeah.”
After our short conversation, Ricky left for school. His school was only a couple blocks away from mine. I usually walked with him, but I informed him that he’d be walking alone today.
I then called Pedro and Luis to see where they were at. Pedro and Luis are in the same struggle. They’re part of the Bloods and they get their bread by selling too. I ain’t a Blood, but I do augment my money count by selling their drugs for them. We’re scheduled to go to a swap this afternoon. One of the biggest swaps I’ve ever been involved in. In a big paper bag, I have Skyscraper, Purple Haze, Meth, and Acid. Although I sell, I don’t necessarily use. In fact, I’m the only cat on Marcy who doesn’t use if you’re talking about dudes that are my age. I then left the apartment and locked the door behind me. I’m headed to Knickerbocker on my foot which is the craziest mission. Should take me some time. It was about 11:00 when I left. I put the drugs in my jacket. Keeping them in sight of Marcy would be a vacuous move and would make me look stupid. Not only that but the swap is surreptitious and not a single being should know about it.
At about 11:45 is when I reached the spot. It was behind a bunch of buildings. I looked around and there were about 5 heads standing opposite of Pedro and Luis, looking nefarious in the face. I then walked up to Pedro and Luis. We gave each other dabs. The other dudes began to talk. They sounded as if they were of Mexican descent. One guy carried a case of some sort.
“Mira papi. Give it to me.” The front-most guy said.
“Give me the bread first.” Luis responded.
The dude pulled a gun out of his back and pointed it at Luis. I told him to lower it, but instead he coerced us. He thought he looked tough with the gun when in reality, it made him look like a malefactor who was going to try and hurt us because of his greed. From then on, I knew we were in an impasse. It was do as he said, get killed, or fight back. I wasn’t having this shit so I stepped to him.
“Listen, homie. Ain’t anybody come here strapped. Put that shit away and let’s get on with this!”
“Shut up!” He screamed.
And there it was. He fired the piece at Pedro and Pedro was hit. He had been hit in the stomach. Pedro collapsed. He quickly reloaded and shot at Luis's head . When I saw this I became doleful but still strong. I popped the guy in his jaw and his piece flew into the air. His boys then grabbed me and threw me to the dirt floor. They all kicked me in the stomach and punched me in the ribs. I was fighting solo-dolo so I knew I wouldn't make it. Nobody would if you were fighting solo-dolo against 5 heads.
Just then, I was imbued with relief. "BANG! Chick-Chick. BANG! Chick-Chick." The constant beating of me terminated. Bodies dropped around me and the fragrance of redolent blood entered my nostrils. Blood spilled from the bodies of each man. I look up and to my surprise, Luis is there standing with the piece. I dropped my head back to the floor in sorrow and terror.
In the distance, the sound of sirens entered my ears as I began to fade away. The sounds increased in volume as seconds passed. Luis helped me up and carried me over his wide shoulders. I felt safe with my boy, Luis. I was in a great state of composure. With little eyesight left, I seen him pick up the brown paper bag and case off the floor. My stomach began to pound on his shoulder as he jotted out of the swap spot. Not long after is when I completely fell out.