Good-bye to the Drug dealers and Crackheads Essay

1747 Words7 Pages
As I am looking out the window, the train passes by for the last time. We live directly behind the railroad tracks; everyday we hear the same annoying train pass by. I am happy that we are moving out of this neighborhood. It's sad to say, but there were days when I didn't want to walk across the street because I would have to deal with the low-life drug dealers and crackheads. All day long the crackheads would stand across my street in front of the store, drink, act foolish, and waste away to practically nothing. The drug dealers would stand out there from the time I went school until late at night. They never tried to sell drugs to me, but I hated looking at them. They thought that selling drugs was the only way to make money,…show more content…
People always talk about college, but going to college won't help me make money now. I'm looking for money right now-not in the future. Man, People don't live forever. We all will die soon, so what's the use of worrying about the future! My goal isn't to go to college. It's to be big enough to sell keys. Keys is where the money is. I want to sell keys, so other drug dealers will have to come buy their dope from me. Then I can have them sell it to the base heads. One nigga' I buy my dope from is living in Miami in a mansion, and he didn't go to college. He's living large just like I want to be. One day I'm gonna blow up just like that nigga.

I have seen so many lives waste away while living here. Chad, a boy that lived in my apartment complex, was one of those lives. Everyday, we used to walk to school together. He was on the track team and doing well in school. Then he started hanging out with the wrong crowd, the same drug dealers that made my skin crawl. He stopped walking with me to school. In fact he stopped going to school all together. The sad part is when he dropped out; he only had one more year before his graduation. Now when I see him my heart goes out to him. He looks so run down and haggard with a constant worried look on his face; he's always worried about money or going to jail.

I've been in jail many times. The police are always trying to rush me and my homeboys at the corner. Sometimes when

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