_____ The real Slim Shady probably lived here. _____
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I'm bouncing the ball as I walk back home. The neighborhood is quiet. Too quiet really, it's usually crawling with thugs, drug dealers and girls with skirts that barely fit them. Shady is an understatement.
I check my cell and find at least twenty missed calls from Joshua. Shit. He's my older brother, but he acts more like a father, the sole breadwinner of our family. Replay the chorus of Rihanna's 'Work' and you've got the picture. Jeremy, my other brother, has a mild case of Asperger's syndrome and basically finds it very hard to communicate with people, which is why his social life is limited, to put it nicely.
I sigh and walk up the driveway, as expected, Joshua is waiting for me. "A damn phone call would be nice". When I don't respond, he switches the TV on, and the news channel states that some sort of convict broke out of prison. "He's dangerous, come straight back home after school". I choose a non-commital response and walk to my room.
Maths, with an extra helping of Biology for dessert.
