Sidenote: This story is fiction and is completely made from my imagination.

My mother, brother and recently I moved from the East to the West, from a big city to a small, and from an apartment to a house. And unlike our old neighborhood, as we drove to our new house in a gray suburbia, with uncolored homes, untrimmed grasses and people staring at us as we passed by, I began to clutch my purse. "It will be alright Maria" my mother said, as she saw me do this, "this is not the best area, but it was the most we could afford". However to me, something was off about it.

A week later, I started my first day of high school, and like my impression of the neighborhood, it was ok, but there was something that didn't feel right about it. For example, there would be some guys and girls wearing all of one color, and some wearing all of another, who would only hang out with people wearing the same color; there was always a sort of rival feeling I got between the two groups. I found out later what these two groups called themselves, but I always stayed away from them; my brother did not do the same.

One day, I was sitting around with my new friends I made in math class for lunch, when I saw one person wearing almost all one color approach my brother, who was eating alone. You see, after my father left our family for another woman, my mom and I were able to get through it; my brother sadly could not. And with my mother always working to support us, she was not around a lot at home, which left him and I to ourselves often. To get back to it, the guy sat down next to my brother, put his arm around him, and after a couple moments, had him [my brother] join one of the one-colored groups for lunch. I watched this, and suddenly felt uneasy, but I ignored my gut and joined the current conversation with my friends.

A couple of weeks after this, my brother suddenly began to wear clothes that corresponded to only one color; and he began to also join one of the gangs at school. One morning, he explained "They promised to protect us Maria" he said to me, "we won't ever have to worry about our safety in the neighborhood, because they got us". I smiled while he said this, but the bad feeling from a couple of weeks ago resurged. I walked out of his room, and started off my long walk to school, yet became paranoid as I walked past the houses and fences, I felt people watching me.

Then, while my GPA rose more and more because of my rising test scores, my brother's began to fall. My mother saw one of his tests one night, and yelled "Why are you getting bad grades? Are you studying? What do you do all afternoon?". "I'm hanging out with my friends, they keep me busy! It's better than just being around the house for the entire afternoon doing nothing!" he yelled back. "Well, why don't you join a sport like Maria? That is how she has kept herself busy!" my mother responded, "there must be some afterschool program that you can join". "No they don't! I don't like any of the clubs or sports they have!" he said back. "Well, then get a job!" mother replied. "No, I want to hang out with my friends!" my brother lastly stated, and stormed out of the house, and into the street, disappearing into darkness. My mother swiftly went to her room and slammed the door. Not knowing what to do next, I continued doing my math homework, trying to forget all that just happened.

A couple weeks later I noticed as my brother continued to hang out with the gang, his GPA fell more and more, unto the point where he started ditching class. I felt bad for my mother at this point, because she was trying to do her best, but could only do so much.

Anyway, one afternoon after soccer practice, I was back at my house, and doing homework. However, I had forgotten to take the trash out, and since it was a little breezy, I grabbed a sweater on one of the kitchen chairs and threw the trash out. Yet I noticed after I threw the trash out that I was wearing my brother's jacket there was something in it. I had discovered a clear plastic bag of meth as I unzipped the pouch, and not knowing what to do, I ran inside.

"Have you been smoking this?" I said to my brother later, holding the bag in front of him. "No, of course not! I'm selling that tonight" he responded. "No, you're not, I'm not letting you" I said, and ran to the bathroom". "Wait, don't do that! I'm planning on selling that in order to get the money to buy a new stove!" he yelled as I held the bag over the toilet water. "What" I said in shock, "Yes, that is what I plan to do, so give me it" he replied. "You're not selling this again" I said to him as I gave back the bag, he nodded, placed the bag in his sweater pocket, and walked out the door.

A couple hours later, I heard my name being called loudly, and not thinking about it, ran outside and into the yard. I saw my brother's breathing bleeding body and others laying in the middle of the street. A guy wearing completely all one color was standing over him, except that color was different from my brother's. "You see Miguel, this is why you don't mess with us" I heard him say as I tried running back into the house, but I suddenly felt a sharp pain in my abdomen and fell to the ground. The world started to become blurry, and my vision started to fade as I laid there. The last thing I saw was the sun setting behind the trees, and the last things I heard were my brother's screams, and a car pulling up, my mother's.

EPILOGUE: Maria dies in yard from fatal gunshot wound, and Miguel is charged with murder, pleads guilty, and sent to jail shortly after. No one else except the mother (alive) was found. The mother, too emotionally distraught, moved out of the neighborhood 2 months later. The violence between the 2 gangs started again 2 weeks after the mother moved out; they had recruited new members.

For Further Reading:

https://rollingout.com/2016/08/12/los-angeles-mother-reveals-copes-losing-sons-gang-violence/