Hell and On

"Come on, do you think that the boy is going to want to see our doubt asses after having been with the educated ones," blurted Mike in response to a question that was directed at me.

"Don't worry guys I'm coming back and getting everyone out of here," I answered. I was on my way to college in two days and this was our last night of the summer. All during middle school and the first year of high school Matty, Mike and myself were always together. We lived in a city that was very poor, and only had a small neighborhood that was middle-class and safe. We were not part of that community.

This was the first time that the three of us had been together since our freshmen year in high school because during that year we each went in different directions. Matty, the athletic one of the group, was a similar course as me, and in his first year of high school made the varsity baseball team. His goals were set high and he lived for the game that America loves. "This is my way out" is the phrase that he would tell me all time when we were talking of the future. A way out was exactly what you needed. In the place we lived no one just left because you were not there by choice. You were there because life put you there, and it was up to you just you to find a window of escape. Matty's way out changed over the summer of our first year high when one summer night at a party he was shot in the arm by a stray gun shot. Baseball was over for Matty. He took it all as a sign that there was no way out, and soon gave up on himself and his goals. Shortly following the start of our sophomore year in high school Matty dropped out of school and started to work at a gas station.

"Don't worry kid, I won't keep you to that," said Mike in a very passive and distant voice. Mike was the only one of the three of us that came from the middle-class neighborhood. His parents owned a restaurant and lived in the only nice part of the city. Although he lived in another part of the city we had met him early on in middle school. His parents were generous with the things that they gave Mike. He was also a very free spirit. With such a combination Mike's life took a turn for the worse his sophomore year of high school. At the time we barely saw Matty, and the parties that Mike started to go to had become more and more out of control. There was easy availability of drugs and he liked to see what the different ones did. This lead him to a downfall that many of my neighbors experienced in life, crack. About mid-sophomore year Mike started to use crack daily. Soon after he dropped out of school and in an effort to save him, his parents left him on the streets. Although nothing helped him and even on this night together Matty and myself wondered if he was high or if he would ask for money to do so. Mike was still always a friend.

"Don't give me that shit. I'm not the type that is going to forget where I'm from." I quickly darted back at Mike's questioning of my faith. I was the lucky one. I came from a large family and my parents were hard working people. My father worked hard all his life, but due to a lack in education was never able to get any job better than construction. With eight children and a wife his checks never went as fare as he wanted them too. As result he was very strict with our school and was the first one to help me out when he could. I, being his first child, had almost become his new chance at life. Then after seventeen years of support and lots of luck I was able to gain exception to a college and take a huge step out of hell.

This was our last night together because I was leaving, Matty was working, and Mike was trying to stay alive. All we wanted out of the night were memories and one last time together. Then all of a sudden out of the calm of the night came five gunshots. They rang out like an early morning alarm. In the next moments our thoughts went from reminiscing and leisure to full attention and adrenaline. The night was then full of a fleeing car and the familiar sounds of late police. We knew that the shots were close, but the questions in our minds were of death and injury. With curiosity in our minds and terror in our hearts we ran to the sight of the shooting.

Only two blocks away we came to a sight that was not new to any of us. There in the middle of the sidewalk was a boy that was the same age as us and was in many of my classes. We all knew him and had partied with him at one time or another in the not to dissent past. Now he lay there in front of us with his eyes blank, insides next to him, and a symbol to all of us. He was a reminder of the place that we lived in and how quick it can all end.

Although I had had nine other friends killed in shootings during high school his effected me the most. It was because I knew the fear that Matty and Mike would face when I left. I knew there was no way out for them, and I was only days away. I knew that I could never save them. With thousands of thought in our heads we walked back to my house. We went slowly and silently.

No one spoke again until we got back to my house. Then Matty said something that will stay with me the rest of my life, "Hey Kid, I'm thrilled to see you escape, but please remember to come back and visit me in hell so that I know there is something else."

After that there was not too much for any of us to say except for goodbye. At the time it was just a goodbye until my break, but as life would have it, it was goodbye for life. By the time that my break in December came around Mike had died of a drug over dose. Matty was still, alive but was working nights and I never got to see him while I was home. Shortly after Matty killed himself because hell had become too much for him. As for me, I escaped.