TWO years after my high school experience began, mother died. Yeah, you guessed it, childbirth. I was left with the six kids to feed. But in spite of this knowledge, I was more at ease. Somehow the thought that mother died leaving me to care for my siblings felt better than having her around to increase the numbers.

I had the task of going to school in the days and roaming the streets by night to survive. As I grew older, so did the sympathy. It became more difficult to get money by honest begging and I grew desperate. I turned to shoplifting many-a-times and had several narrow escapes from the law, but I would have done it again in a flash just to prevent my siblings from starving.

One night as I sat by the sidewalk at a popular hang out spot watching the traffic, a vehicle pulled up at my feet. The tinted window rolled down to reveal the face of a middle-aged man. Money flashed before me as I viewed the vehicle. He beckoned me to approach and I hesitated. "Come here, man," he said in a friendly voice, "I won't hurt you". I rose to my feet and approached the vehicle gingerly.

"What yu doing on the street so late?" he asked.
"Hussling," I replied gruffly, wondering why that was any of his concern.

"How old are you?" he continued.
"Thirteen," I barked, "why you want to know?"
He laughed a deep, hearty laugh that upset me more. I felt he was mocking me. I hissed my teeth and turned to walk away when he responded: "Feisty.... I like. Come here, man, I bet you haven't eaten from morning. Come let me get you someting." The thought of a meal felt too good to give up, but I wanted to play hard ball.

"Mi alright, mi nuh hungry," I told him.
But he wasn't about to give up. "Come on, man, I can tell you hungry, plus I will give you some money".

The sound of the word money made me turn around and, as if on impulse my legs took me back to the waiting vehicle. He invited me to join him in the car. I did. That night I was pampered with food and taken to a house, that to me felt like heaven. The experience was so surreal I quickly found myself getting caught up, too caught up. Before I knew it, I was in more trouble than I ever imagined and I found myself running from the law.

He said his name was Aden, and that I was to feel free to visit his house as much as he liked. I was off the streets and the thought of not having to work for money had me spoilt. My siblings also benefited from my new-found wealth as I used whatever I could from my source of income to provide for them. Within a few months, I had refurbished the old structure that was still home to me and the young ones. The roof was replaced and I bought a new mattress.

But the night when I sat on Aden's couch, I was unprepared for the twist that my life was about to take. He had taken out a gun and had handed it to me. "You feel the power?" he asked me as I toyed with the cold metal. I was too caught up with the feeling and had scarcely noticed that Aden had inched too close to me for comfort. It was only when I felt his hand on my leg that my attention shifted.

I turned to find him breathing down my neck. "Jus relax," he told me. I could smell the vodka on his breath. It was overbearing and it was at that point that I realised what his intention was. I felt sick to my stomach.

I scrambled from the sofa and turned to face him. Everything happened so quickly, I had little time to realise that I was pointing the gun at him. "A wha yu a do? I asked. "Mi look like a f...t to yu? He looked at me and smiled as if he expected me to react the way I did. He wore a calm look on his face as anger boiled within me. It felt as if he was daring me.

I should have known. All the gifts were just sweets to get his way. How could I have been so naive to think that I would get something for nothing?

"You know you don't want to do that," he began. But that was all he managed to say because all I remembered after that was a loud explosion, and I opened my eyes to see Aden slumped in the sofa with blood dripping from his head. I had shot him in the face.

I dropped the gun and bolted for the door so fast, I scarcely had time to think of whether or not I was seen. I was scared. And for that one time since the passing of my mother, I realised how much I missed her and wanted her around.
I went home that night with the knowledge that I was in deep trouble. I had the company of my siblings, but that night as I cried softly I realised that for the first time in years I did not feel like a grown-up. I had forgotten what it felt like to be a child and I yearned for the comforts of my mother's embrace. The way she would cradle me in her arms and tell me 'we are going to be ok', and for that moment I felt secure.
Suddenly, I was a boy again and I was scared and alone.

I stayed away from the streets for weeks as the news of Aden's death swamped the media. Just when I thought I was safe to go back to school, I was pulled from class one day by the teacher. I was taken to the principal's office where my worst fears were realised. There was a cop waiting for me. "Come with me, son," the cop said, "I need you to accompany me to the station".

My tears fell like rain that day, as I thought of my siblings. I was sure I was going to jail. On the way to the station, the police began the interrogation. "You know why I am here, don't you?" he asked me.

I thought of a lie. "Yes Sir," replaced it. By the time we arrived at the station, he looked at my tear-stained face and said, "You are a good kid, you will make it". I looked up at him in amazement, as he told me, "Speak of this to no one, and I mean no one, he said sternly. If I hear it I will come back for you and I won't hesitated to put you in jail."
That was enough to scare me all over again as I nodded my head in approval. "Yes Sir".

"You did the right thing," he told me, "you defended yourself, but you did leave your fingerprint on the gun. I realised you were terrified, but those people prey on innocent kids like you. Go home, son and stay in school. You have potential."

As I turned to walk away, I heard him mutter to himself, "Serve him right. God damn f.....g f....t."
I did not linger, I went straight home.

Trousers in Denim

Cream of the 'Crop'

Cheeky's World