justanotherdayinthefkd three four

It was a long dark day in the east side of Pratt. Kids crowded into the local check cashing center throwing quarter after quarter into the newest version of Street Fighter while the older generation of kids, them being over 60, stood inline cashing their monthly check. They would then move from that line and into the lottery ticket line where the girl with ratty blonde hair manned the machine. The smell of fresh donuts hung in the air along with the smell of hair dye and cigarette smoke. No breeze was blowing but even if there had been one the blood from the shooting outside would never had made it inside the check cash. Some poor soul was gunned down out front, probably drug related. Takes the police 5 minutes to show up. By that time all of the know it alls of the avenue had gathered preaching to the others there that they had seen everything. Meanwhile a man laid on the ground bleeding to death. One of the boys inside the check cash forgot aout his Street Fighter game and ran outside to man. He recognized the man on the ground. He was one of the reasons his once proud neighborhood was now a haven for drugs of all kinds. He and his actions were the reason that fire happened on Buffield St killing those kids. The boy thought about all of the terror the man now lying in front of him had wrought on his streets."He deserved this." The ambulance pulls up and paramedics pour out. After 5 minutes the man is loaded up on a stretcher. The boy doesn't think about that day for another 15 years.