On a bright sunny day in Brooklyn is where our story starts, where heat dazzles its inhabitants, where street thugs and hustlers hide in their street shops and apartments to avoid the blazing sun. Schools are closed; it is mid-July, the heat of New York City streets boiling even the most accustomed. Children stomp in almost nonexistent puddles or throw water on each other, while teenagers sit on corners or outside their apartments, the inside being too hot. It is a time where time seems to stand still; the days of summer all appearing the same as the same routine begins: wake up, get outside while it's still cool, and relax in the afternoon. Many sleep due to the insufferable heat and stench of the New York City streets; it is the heat that brings out the smell of every person that has ever walked NYC's streets, it is the heat that brings out every undesirable smell that has been worked into the concrete and gutters. It is the heat that undesirably makes everyone lounge around with hardly the will to do anything at all.
It is a day where Jeyontai, a young boy at the age of thirteen, lounges on the streets of Flatbush near Church Avenue. He walks down the streets, buzzing his face with a mini-fan in the long lost hope of cooling himself. He decides not to visit Modell's, as the place was big and hardly had any air-conditioning at all, and so continued onwards.
[...] Heat is heat.” The cashier snorted in agreement, lazily lolling a toothpick in his mouth as he slouched in his seat. what can I get for “Straws I ain't in here for nothin' but Straws was the cashier's nickname for Steve; Jeyontai and Steve had known each other since 2nd grade. After Steve had dropped out of high school in Sophomore year, he'd been burning through more cigarettes with weed and jobs than anyone Jeyontai had ever known. His position in the jewelry store was his sixth in three weeks, but Jeyontai knew a part of Straws that not many did, and it was that sole factor that kept them close. [...]
[...] Jeyontai supposed as he picked out a few of Nestlé's chocolate protein shakes. Proceeding to the front, he glanced at the aisle to the right, and saw what he was looking for. Nasal Spray-containing substantial amounts of ephedrine-was what Straws needed. “Fruit and Spray,” as he called it. Protein and drugs. Grabbing a few off the shelf, he briefly greeted the store clerk and placed the items on the conveyor belt. “J'st these?” The girl asked, a bored look on her face. [...]
[...] And so, as Jeyontai dumped his backpack and lunchbox in his room and proceeded downstairs to talk with Aunt Sally, he knew today was just another day: a shitty-ass day. Despite his gloomy mood, Jeyontai couldn't help noticing that Sally wasn't smoking her usual cigarettes in front of the television with the overloaded ashtray and smoky atmosphere. She was standing, abnormally stoically, in the kitchen with a pan in one hand and a butter knife with a slice of butter in the other. [...]
[...] He slowed to a fast paced walk as he realized Jason and the others weren't stupid enough to follow him, and it gave him a satisfaction he'd never known before. He pushed past the librarian, pushed past the science teacher glaring angrily at him; he pushed past the group of annoying gossipy girls always uploading videos and pictures of themselves half-nude; and he pushed past the door into the vice principal's office. He didn't wait for the vice principal to abruptly stand and ask him to leave or wait outside, but instead kicked a chair aside, and promptly demanded that the vice principal sit. [...]
[...] While they will never admit this, I am a physical reminder of such: you will never experience the same emotion, but not once have I gotten violent with them. You have not learned to control your emotions, and to represent yourself; violence is your last and deadly resort. Your problem, Jeyontai”—Jenkins continued, speeding up his communications a little so as to stop Jeyontai from interrupting—“is that you use it as your first resort.” true; this morning I was trying damn hard to stop from gettin' to you gave [...]
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