"you ain't nothin but a hound dog"
Here is a quick note before you start reading:
Violence| Gangs | mild cursing|
if you have trauma with gangs I don't advise reading this.
All characters, settings (except for America, NY, and the Bronx) in this story are fictional (and the plot). Any resemblance to real life events is purely coincidental. If you don't believe me, read through the story and see how ridiculous it gets.
NO I'm not glamorizing gang violence, I'm bringing awareness and showing how it negatively impacts people. Also, the description for this story isn't really, what's the word? Descriptive? So I will restate it here. Basically an introverted girl named Layla has straight A's and she is just really smart in general. She's shy and keeps to herself most of the time when she's not around her only friend, Maria. Layla and Maria used to be a part of a friend group, and they reunited due to a strange situation.
okay now you can start
The air is foggy on a cold March day. I didn't bring a hoodie, but Maria's arm around my shoulder makes me warm enough. We are about to cross the street to reach the school, when I notice Zaheer, staring at me. I pretend I don't see him but it's still awkward.
"What's wrong?" Maria asks. I notice her finger nails, manicured gorgeously with glitter french tips.
"Since when did you get your nails done? They look so cute." I say to her, avoiding the question.
"Puta" she drags the 'a' "Stop ignoring my question, I'm not slow." Coming from Baltimore, she tended to drag her vowels. Especially her O's. I sigh in an exaggerated manner, making it seem like I'm annoyed at her.
"Fine." I whine, "Zaheer keeps staring at me like he's never seen a black person before!"
"Huh? Layla, he's literally black." She said, annoyed.
"W-well so am I! It's just weird how he's staring at me."
"Maybe he likes you again?"
"Hell nah. We both know how that ended up. Plus, I don't want to get tangled with all 6 of his hoes."
"Girl bye let's just get in school now." She rolls her eyes and walks ahead of me. I stand there for a second but follow her shortly after, catching up with her abruptly. We open the entrance doors to the school and walk through the halls. We follow our usual routine. Go to her locker first, then mine, then do a lap around the school and be late to class. I don't really like the last part, but somehow, Maria always convinces me to go with her.
"Why do you have such good grades but you always FAIL to get to class on time??" My teachers complain. During the lap around the school, Maria brings up Zaheer's twin brother, Jake.
"I can't even believe that they are brothers, nonetheless, twins! Jake is so nice and Zaheer is rude. Maybe one of them is adopted?" She said. It's really none of her business but she likes gossiping. She does have a point though. Maybe one of them is adopted. They are twins despite looking nothing alike. They may be paternal twins, but they are the same exact height. Zaheer is dark skin and a dread-head (best combination *cough cough*) while Jake is light skinned with low cut hair. Zaheer is on the slimmer side, while Jake is more muscular, he evidently works out. Not that I pay attention. It's just easy to notice. "Are you even listening?" I hear Maria say.
"Sorry, I was daydreaming." She rolled her eyes for the hundredth time.
"It's okay." She grabbed my arm and dragged me to the bathroom. I groan.
"Girl what are we doing here?" I know the answer to that question but hope it's not the answer I think it is.
"Relax. I need to touch up my lip gloss!" She said, examining her self in the tall mirror. I look in the mirror, and study my outfit. I'm wearing a black baby tee with a skull design, and old black cargos. I have black beat up Jordan 12's on and a silver bangle on my wrist. "I like what you did with your hair today." She said. I scanned myself, and started fluffing my hair, surprised that it didn't shrink from the dampness outside. My 4C curls are more tamed, and defined than usual. That's why I decided to wear it out today. I take a peek at Maria, and notice how her skin glistens under the lights, while my skin just looks dull. She's wearing a beige knitted cardigan over a light brown crop top and a matching short skirt a bit higher than her thighs. She's the wealthier one of us two. I mean, she's not super rich, but her family is definitely doing better than mine. Her hair is in a high, curled ponytail.
"Did you hear about what happened to Zaria?" I asked her, striking up a conversation. After putting on her 20th layer of lip gloss, she turned to me.
"Yup. These 'serpentines' are no joke." She said. "My brother's friend's step sister's cousin's friend's dad is a part of it. But this is the Bronx, what do you expect?"
"I'm just worried about her."
"For? You hardly even know Zaria."
"I know but- what if-"
"Layla." She cut me off, putting her hands on my shoulders."All you gotta do is lay low, and nothings gonna happen! Trust me." I nodded, pretending to agree with her. I wish I could. But it's hard when you think about what these people are capable of. What they could do to you, your friends, your family. "Now let's go, we don't want to be later than we already are!" And with that, we walked out.
