{2021 MJFA's Best Urban winner}
Michael Jackson, street thug, makes contact with a young girl around his age. He was battling his own inner problems and just when he thought life just wasn't getting better, she humbled him.
She intrigued him, she w...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
𝐌ichael jogged down the steps of his grandmother's front porch as she stood in the background, waving a rolled up newspaper above her head. "Michael Joe don't you dare run up out my house while I'm still talkin' to you!" She called out but he was already on the lawn
"I gotchu Maw!" He yelled back out as he ran backwards, almost tripping over his feet and she frowned with a threatening laugh. "Boy I ain't finished wit' you! What I tell you?" She asked, lingering by her front door.
"Behave myself 'n stay out the streets!" He recited her words and she nodded with a proud smile, but knowing he wouldn't abide by her advice, she proceeded on with her fussing. "If I catch yo black ass in jail again imma land there myself for attempted murder." She paused and eyed him. "For tryna kill you."
He nodded his head and began on his way again after scoffing with a smile. "I hear you, Maw. Stay in da house. You gon' catch a cold." He waved her off politely and waved at her as her fussing voice faded into the distance and he began down the sidewalk.
Michael Jackson cannot stay off of the streets. It's where he grew up, and it's where he'll stay. He was a bit feared by others and puts up a fight only if he has to.
He chooses to make a living illegally. Steals, sells—anything to get his hands on anything that makes his mouth water: money.
He was in love with money and quite frankly it should be his middle name. When it comes to it, he doesn't play around.
"Nigga where you at?" He said into the phone in his hand as he walked casually down the streets, a gun strapped right to his aid and a demeanor as fierce as a lion. "Huh?" He scrunched up his face, not being able to correctly hear what was being said on the other line.
He kissed his teeth and hung up, proceeding to walk down the street. He lingered on the side of the road as opposed to the sidewalk for some odd reason and eventually interfered with traffic as he was almost hit many times, but was not fazed.
They honked their horns at him but he threw two middle fingers up mouthing "Fuck You" nice and clearly.
He walked for about 10 more minutes until he arrived onto King's (Jeremiah) porch just a few blocks from his grandmother's (Maw) house.
He dapped King up casually.
King is one of Michael's best friends. He and Michael grew up together starting from middle school and have since shared the daily street antics together over the years. King lives alone with the daily presence of his girlfriend Bianca, (B), and dwelled lavishly.
He was of no parents just like Michael and had to tend for himself to really make it in the streets. "What's good?" His deep lazy voice rung out to Michael as he kissed his teeth ultimately pushing him back. "Nigga what's good? Y'all ain't find 'em yet?" Michael asked.
