The Dangerous Price of Milk

There is no rest for my weariness. No safe place for you, if you are the enemy

There is no certainty I will survive even a short trip to the corner store. Not when they believe they are "soldiers", at war with us.

People who live where the grass is brown. Where the car doors don't all close right.

Where people don't choose despair, but have it chosen for them.

One of their "soldiers" was shot earlier that day, but I didn't know.

They decided they wanted revenge for that, but I didn't know.

I guess anyone who looked like me would do, but I don't know.

I can almost see my apartment from here. Almost see my mom in the kitchen waiting for her youngest son to return. I made it... almost.

I put my head down when I saw them, hoping foolishly, that they might let me pass.

But no self -respecting 'soldier' would ever simply let the enemy pass.

I dropped my milk.

I put my hands up.

I looked down - as they ran through my pockets and questioned me without waiting for answers.

I have this habit of counting things when I'm nervous. I count their boots. 16 pairs.

One for each year of my life.

They all seem angry, but one more so than the rest. He wants to know what I am doing over here. Why I'm out here at night. What gang I am in. And I was the one who "did it".

With each question, he grows angrier and redder. I've seen people pump up themselves before. 

I know what it means. 

It means that they will be heroes when they kill me. And I will be a number when I die.

Someone who must have deserved it for living where I do. 

Or making them fear for their lives from the center of their semi-circle.

The angriest one grabs me by my shirt, and I bump my head against the wall.

He's close, so very close to the moment he needs. To the power one feels when destroying another life..

I am sad now, that I will die. But sadder still that it will break my mother's heart.

Tears run down my face.

One of them grabs the angry one's hand, pulls it away from my shirt, and says "Hey".

I looked up for the first time to see his face. He is the only one of them who looks like me.

He pointed down the street and told me to go home.

I picked up the jug of 1.99c milk, and did what he said.