All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
My feet swiftly move under me. I turn my head and see the car speeding after me. The sirens blare in my ears as I jump over a few bushes, trying to escape. I go to the right and land safely in a rose bush. I sit very quietly, not making a single movement. I sit there waiting, hoping for that car to pass, thankfully it does. A deep breath is released from my chest. I stand up and jet off in the opposite direction. Once I'm over the bridge, I sit under the bridge to rest. My hand moves down and reaches for my iPod and the stack of candy I just stole from Mr. Ken's store down the rode. I guess I can't go there anymore.
With my iPod cranked up to the maximum it allows, I hop up and head home. It is not really home. Just and old abandoned warehouse down on Fifty-ninth Street. As I walk in, I call for Junior, my older brother. He pops out with a stack of clothes that he lays down on the table next to my candy.
Those police been after us for about a year now. Junior and I been stealing for about that long. Our mom died and left us homeless. Dad skipped out on us a long time ago. The police came to our house after mom died to pick us up, but we already split. Junior said it's the best for us. We lived in different places. Moving around, for the first three month Then we found this place. The police are coming after us, trying to stick us in foster care. With no absolute permanent home and no food, stealing was our last resort. We steal food and drinks in order to live.
In the distance you can hear a slight pop come from a hand gun. A police siren and a lot of screaming follows. This ain't no place to grow up. I go down to the creek to take my bath. Afterwards, I sit on my log and tie up my damp curly brown hair into a black band. I miss my old life, but now all I got is Junior and my memories. That's it.
I wake up the next day and my brother is gone. Since I can finally navigate downtown Brooklyn, he now leaves me alone more often. Outside I look up and see the sun hiding behind the Oak tree. The leaves of the tree whistle slightly as I pull up my hood and walk off. I dig around my pocket and pull out my last dollar bill. The closest store, that I haven't stolen from yet, is seven blocks down, right next to the police station. They come after me every time they spot me, and that leads to a chase, and those make me tired. Since I figure it is too risky, I guess no drink for me. I stuff the dollar deep into my pocket and forget about it. The next block over I can clearly hear Shawn, a gang leader, yelling. In fear I hide. He gets violent when he gets mad. Shawn acts like a starving gorilla when he is angered., so I try to stay away.
Ten minutes later, my stomach growls. I can't eat anymore candy; I need real food. With the risk in the back of my mind, I decide to go to the store seven blocks down. Just as I pass the station, an officer looks up. His face flashes to the picture on the wall; the picture of me. I take one more look at him and run. Once again a chase begins. I can't run as fast but I try. But every step I take, he gets an inch closer to locking me up. Over bushes, under the tunnel, even across the bridge, I run. Yet he manages to stay close behind. My heart is beating rapidly as adrenaline pumps through my veins. As a last ditch effort, I stop. I climb the big Oak tree and wait as the line of troopers pass me by. I look down and see Junior. I run to him and give him a hug as he comforts me.
“They almost got me,” I explain. When asked why I went past the station, all I can say is I got tired of candy. That night he sleeps next to me, trying to keep me calm.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, there is a loud thump and a group of men screaming. They rush into our room and point these big guns at us.
“Lay face down! Now! Hands on your head and don't move!”
We do as told, fearing our lives. They slap on the cuffs and pull us up. As we are walked to the cruiser, they read us our rights.
“Crystal and Junior Matthews, you are under arrest for several counts of robbery and running from police. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you can not afford one, one will be provided.”
After he says all of his speech, they begin to jerk us off in different direction. They are trying to split us up. I start to scream at the thought of losing the only thing I have left in life. This just cases them to pull me away faster.
After being put into this facility for troubled kids for a couple of months, without my brother, my trial finally comes. At court I finally see my brother after all this time. We quietly in the seats with our cuffed hands in our laps. We wait for ever for the judge to come. When he finally comes, he is this dude like 300 pounds! He bangs his little mallet thingy like he's all big and bad.
“I understand the defendants are the ages of 13 and 16. Both underage so both will be charged as minors. 26 counts of burglary among the two of them. The mother is deceased and no father on record. Both have run from the police numerous times and have been living unknown. After reviewing the cases, I sentence the defendants to nine months in the juvenile detention facility. By then the oldest defendant with be the age of 17 and will be in charge of maintaining responsibility of our younger defendant. I don't want to see either one of you in my court again or I will be forced to charge you as an adult. Case closed”