The average medium height dark-skinned boy with a close-cropped hair lining was looking for a way out.  He was wearing a black hoodie and black pants. He was lonely and desperate. He had no family, no friends. Nothing. Life is his enemy. Someone was after him. He was
looking over his shoulders everywhere he went. No one cared. That is how it is growing up in the hood. No one loves or cares about you. He had to find his way. He has to. He was running away from someone or something at night. It was dark and foggy. He saw a Mini Market gas station nearby. He felt at ease and strolled into the market. He acknowledged that it was a beautiful brown skin girl wearing glasses getting some drinks out of the refrigerator, along with other items. He saw her and came up with an idea.
"What's up," greeted her.
"Hi," the girl said.
"Aye yo, can I stand here and chat with you for a bit. It's a group of niggas after me, so I need to have you like my cover so they can pass this joint," he said.
The girl was appalled at what he just told her. "Well. Since you say somebody is after you, it wouldn't hurt to protect you."
"Thanks, lil mama. You good," he said, observing her from head to toe.
"Good? What does that mean?" She asked.
"Cause most shorties around this joint ain't stunting no nigga on the street, ya feel me?" He said.
"Yeah, I feel you."
"Yo, I appreciate you doing this lil mama for me. I put that on my daddy's grave yo," he thanked her.
"No problem. It's good for blacks to look out for one another from time to time," she reassured.
"Damn you good lil mama," he said, with a grin.
"Thanks," she said, feeling uneased. So who you running from?"
"Some bitch ass niggas I bumped heads with," he said.
"I know it's gang-related," she informed.
"It's just ol cats I went back with in the past," he said, being in denial.
He turned around towards outside and dunked down the last corridor they were standing in. He hid behind some cereal boxes. He glared hard at the glass doors looking out. He saw seven boys all wearing white t-shirts that had a brisk walk. They all shifted past the store with great desperate speed. He took a deep breath and remained calm.
"My cover is good lil mama. They checked out," he said, turning back to her.
"Good, cause I gotta get to my car with all this food," she said.
"Ight. We can walk there ta gather," he suggested.
"Cool," she agreed.
"I got 4 kids, and a baby mama. But they ain't sweating a nigga. She ain't sweating me unless I change my lifestyle. But shid, this is me. I can't be nobody else but me. This is life. Niggas strugglin out here, ya feel me?" They sauntered to a stoplight.
"I feel you but...."
"But what?" He asked curiously.
"Yo baby mama is right tho," she said.
"Bout what?" "She's right about changing yo lifestyle. Being in a gang all yo life won't get you anywhere. I have some relatives who were in that life. Some are in jail, prison, or dead. If you stay in this forever, you will never prosper in life. Yo life will end shortly. Trust me on that," she informed.
"Real talk," he pondered on what the girl said for a moment starring at the ground.
"Look, I gotta go. Nice talking to you bro," she said, crossing the street to get to her car.
"Ight," he said, with his two hands placed inside his pockets gazing into the dark sky.
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