Travis, a 19 year old whose life was normal before the death of his father.
His father's death forced him and his mother to move to the worst area in Detroit, the hood part of Detroit, the violent part of Detroit, the dangerous part of Detroit...
"You shot Lil M, Travis!!!!!!" Sekane yelled at me, I had never seen her so angry before. "I...uh...it was a mistake...I.." I tried to explain myself right before 50 members of the enemy gang encircled me, banging metal canes in their hands, others pointing their guns at me. I realized that I had made the biggest mistake of my life.
2 months ago...
*Bang! Bang! Bang!*
"Travis would you open this damn door!" My stepdad ordered me, harshly banging his hands on my bedroom door. "Can't your dumb ass see that I'm busy." I replied, comfortably laying down on my mattress. "It's 8am man!" I didn't respond. Suddenly, he burst the door open. "What's wrong with you?" "'I'm busy,'" he quoted "you got class man." "What if I don't wanna attend lessons today!" I yelled back at him and got up. "Don't raise your voice at me!" He told me. "Whatchu gonna do bout it?" I asked and he didn't respond. "That's what I thought, don't tell me how to live my life." I said and grabbed my backpack that was laying on the cracked floor made of cheap concrete. "When your mom hears about this..." he threatened before I interrupted him. "This got none to do with her." I said and walked out of the room. I placed the straps of my backpack over my shoulders and walked over to the kitchen. I found my mom whipping up something while she was on a phone call. "Good morning Tray," my mom greeted me. I smiled at her whilst greeting her and kissed her on her left cheek. "Yoh imma have to speak to you later, cool bye." She said and cut the phone call, "Here you go." She said and handed me a plate of 2 slices of dry bread. "Momma, we out of bread?" I asked, folding a slice in half. "And sugar, and tea bags, and salt, basically everything is done." She replied with a sigh. "Well that's why Jason is here, he's the head of this fam. Why ain't he doing nothing?" "Baby, your papa ain't got no cash." She said, roughly chewing the gum in her mouth. "But he got em' racks for em' cigars though." I said and shook my head. "You should get going." She said and grabbed my plate. "Momma." "No, you're late, again. Come on get up." "I'll see you later," I said. "Alright baby," she said and gave me a kiss on my cheek.
I'm Travis Gates, 19 year old of Detroit, Michigan, USA. Well home is...well, when I said detroit's my place this is what I meant:
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