“Whack!” went the door from the sound of metal on metal as Paco slammed it shut. He and his parents had been arguing again about his plans for college, which always put him in a bad mood. Paco had never been ambitious in school, but still managed to pull straight A’s. He didn’t intend on going to college after his senior year. His parents always knew he had potential and urged him towards it, but he remained persistent. Paco inquired that today was going to be dismal, just by how it began.

Paco pulled up to a small house on the edge of town to pick up Jorge, his younger friend, who lived with only his mother. When he observed Jorge walking out of the small shack, he concluded by Jorge’s body language what had happened. Today was the day that the doctors would tell them whether his mother had cancer, and it was apparent what the outcome had been. As Jorge got into the car, Paco tried to force out the most reassuring sounding ‘Hey’ he could, but being on the edge of tears, he choked on his words. Maria, Jorge’s mother, had always been an amazing person, never mean to anyone her entire life. She didn’t deserve the things that opposed her. Jorge started to weep on his shoulder; Paco simply hugged him. He knew his friend led an extremely difficult life, between his mother, debt to the bank, and struggling in school. He didn’t have much hope. He noticed that Jorge looked somewhat malnourished, his skin hung from his bones slightly. Paco didn’t say anything, because he knew that his friend sacrificed his own health to sustain his mothers. He knew they didn’t have near enough money for both of them to eat right.

As they approached the end of the street to turn onto the highway, four Hispanic males, no older than 17, all with blue rags hanging from their pockets walked up to the car.

“Eyy, nice ride homie,” said one of the smaller looking gang members.

“Thanks,” Paco replied dryly.

“It’ll look nice in my garage.”

He started to panic, “What?!”

The kid flipped a switchblade to Paco’s throat faster than the human eye could follow, “Get out if you value your life kid.”

After telling Jorge to get out, Paco painfully just walked away. He knew if he even looked back, the gang may try to start something more, and that was the last thing he needed. While walking, he noticed Jorge looking at the gang with animalistic hatred in his eyes, like that one thing, on top of everything else, had made him finally snap. He prayed to God that that wasn’t true.