Ghetto Era

     I layed in my bed as i watched the police take away another drug-dealer from our apartment complex. Our apartment complex was the ghettoest and hoodest in the neigghborhood. Girls would walk around pregnant, hair nappy, and being fast. But the boys werent any better; pants hanging to their knees, selling drugs, and getting every girl pregnant. Sometimes I dont even walk outside because they would fight at the bottom of the stairway. It was like i was a sheltered ghetto child and their were bearly any of those around. 

       Believe it or not, my dad sells drugs. Crack, weed, evrything you name he had it. My mother stays in a rehad down in Waxahachie, Texas. She was a crack-addict, also hard to believe. My friend, Indy, thought I was perfect and had the best life ever. I wore th newest clothes, shoes, accesories(that never faded), cute purses, and my hair stayed in good condition. But thats not true, none of my life was real. My brother has a record in jail like no other, my dad's a drug-dealer,my mom's in rehab, and I did nothing. But what was this, A Ghetto Era. 

          As I thought about my life, i heard someone knock on the door. "Shantrice!" my dad yelled. i walked out my room and opened the door. "Where Sammy at?" When i looked behind me, my dad walked up to the door with a dime bag in his hand. The dude was counting out money and finally gave half the stack to my dad. My dad gave him the weed and walked to his room. The man stood at the door and looked me up and down. "Whats yo name?" I slammed the door and locked it. I walked away from the door and seen my brother walking down the hallway with his shirt off. he made me sick when he did that. "Go put a shirt on." He turned around and opened the orange juice from the fridge, "Go get a boyfriend." He knew that irritated me-thats why he said it. I knew i had to wake up in the morning for school so i got my uniform out and hopped in the shower.

         After I got out the shower and put my pajamas on(shorts and tshirt), I looked outside my window and seen my brother fighting. Nothing new. The police drove up and broke up the fight. The police heard so much about our apartments nad broke up so many fights that they stopped taking people to jail. But once again, my brother came up the stairs mad at the world.