Grief is all i know , Baylyn Rose

The rough wind whistled behind me as I stood with tears running from my eyes and down my face.

" I miss you ," I mumbled through the tears.

The rain slammed against the ground of the cemetery grass like rocks. Mud was crowded in puddles surrounding each grave's stone and it made my stomach churn to think that mother nature thought that little of the deceased. I didn't bring an umbrella but for some odd reason I'm glad I didn't. Leaves swirled around me in the rain and then would smack against around the pavement paths they were lined up against. The smacking nd of the leaves made me picture Baylyn's body hit the ground as her heart stoped from the bullets. I shook my head in anger and sat myself in the muddy grass that surrounded her stone.

"I'm sorry Baylyn" I kept on repeating to myself . I read the engraved words on the tombstone that sat in front of me. Baylyn Rose Mason, will be missed. That was a lie, I was the only one that had enough respect to come and see her everyday. Sandra was her best friend and doesn't even stop to shed a tear or even act differently. We were the only ones she had and Sandra won't even stop to sulk or grieve about it. Although it has been two years , Sandra needs to be in Baylyns life... I still talk about her as if she is alive. I knelt down and traced her name that was engraved in the stone with my fingers.

1994-2012.

I have done this every morning ever since Baylyn's death , but today is special. Two years ago, about a block away , a healthy girl was inside her home innocently watching tv when her doorbell rang. She went to answer it and as she opened her door, a handguns barrel was pointed at her head and touched the skin on her forehead. From knowing Baylyn so well I would guess she didn't show an ounce of fear that she had in her body. A bullet was put in her head and her heart and its all my fault. I may not have been the one on the other side of that gun but the weak man that held that gun was there due to my actions. I think about her more than three times a day. She is in everything I do. When I introduce myself I still start to introduce her . When my momma gets home from work I still get an image of Baylyn helping her cook. I can't go in the basement anymore because half of her stuff is down there. I never threw it out.

Baylyn wasn't like most girls around here. She was adorable. She was really creative and smart. She never could decide on anything and we used to fight about it all of the time. She always stood out from everybody else. One, she was a white girl in the middle of the ghetto. Two, she was always nicer, funnier and classy in a way that everybody loved her for. Even though everyone wanted to be her friend she only hung out with the people that nobody had even thought had a voice. She never judged anybody for anything. She wanted the best for everybody. She was really good at helping others but she was really lost and could never find herself. She knew everything there was to know about anything it seemed like. She was really wise for her age. I loved her.

My name is Dentae Spite and I've never had the car to drive the road that most people have. By that I mean my life is one jacked up mess. I've lived in east Los Angeles my whole life. It might be a dump that is a home to drunks, stoners, and gangsters but I never complained until my seventh birthday. Before I tell you about my seventh birthday I want you to know somethin, I ain't bout to be in the ghetto forever... this is my story. It all started when my homeboy theo brought a gun to school. At recess he begged me to go play 'gang life' in the marijuana fields behind the playground but I refused knowing that he would wanna be the gang leader. He would boss me around and tell me to go shoot imaginary people in the head with my nerf water gun from goodwill. I had always genuinely been a soft kid until that afternoon. Theo pulled the gun out of his back pocket and teachers shouted and kids chanted. He pushed me down to my knees and everyone started shouting across the playground. High School Druggies stopped and held their guns up .Theo's black jeans were so baggy you couldn't tell the gun hidden back there the whole day. I never had so much sweat touch my face before in my life. They say before you die your life is supposed to flash before your eyes it nothing came to me . I just looked at my wrist and stared at the watch my momma gave to me to think of her by . He held the gun up to my head and I heard him click the trigger. I always knew Theo had anger issues but he never made them obvious until that day. He pulled that trigger so fast I had no time to beat his ass.