The sun shines indifferently on the filthy streets of "the hood". Dim-witted thugs begin to pace in front of a hideous building, everyone is there, outside. Past the vulgar and repulsive graffiti on the walls, voices start to flow around the people outside. Some listen eagerly, but the indolent pacing of the gang members keeps what's being said, for the most part, a secret. All this commotion is anything but monotonous, even thought it's been happening for weeks. Fights have broken out practically each day. For now, all is still. The vulgar, heated argument can be heard by everyone around. The voices become louder, birds flit nervously from rooftop to rooftop. Suddenly, all noise stops. No one dares break the painful silence. A scrupulous grandmother attends to the children. Women nod their thanks, unwilling to speak. A repulsive feeling settles in everyone's guts. Including the dim-witted guards, whose pacing stopped ages ago. A family huddles closer together. The mother mouths a prayer fervently, clutching a rosary to her chest. The rest of the group is motionless waiting for even the smallest sign of what's going on inside the hideous building. The sun starts to slip away, casting shadows across faces already darkened with worry. It disappears and the crowd vanishes with it, making as little noise as possible. The thugs resume their anxious pacing. The voices are still talking, the sounds of the city are quiet now and they can be heard. Unfortunately, they've reached a stalemate. One man walks out of the building, leaving it almost empty. He's followed by anyone still standing outside. Some are more hesitant than others, but they all follow. The stars and moon shine indifferently on the deserted streets.