MY GHETTO STORY//FINISH IT!

you dont need to fight because fighting is not the answer it aint gong to work all the time

and so..she came up to me later..saying she was sorry..and I felt good..and I didnt do anything..aand now we’re bffs!!

I dont know but I have a feeling this question will be deleted

I agree with mertz :)

but then I notice it. she was yelling at me so hard, she did not relize she peed her pants. I could not hold back and started laughing so hard and pointing. Soon enough everyone around us started laughing so hard. I look around and everyone was in tears. Something came over me. I felt I need to help her. So I took her by the hand and we walked into the High School straight to the girls locker room. I sat her down and she was so quite and was sobbing. I told her not to worry that I have a pair of pants she could change into. She told me how sorry she was for trying to embrass me in front of everyone, because she said the feeling was not one she would ever want anyone to feel. She said she would never show her face again. That everyone will always remember her as Pissy Pants Pam. I told her I would not let that happen, and from that day on I kept my promise, Now here we are 15 years later and she is still part of my life. Through out those passing years we …

I had a deep rising warmth inside of me that wouldn’t stay down… an impulse to let go. She took a step towards me still violently shaking with fear or some other form of undescribable courage and anger. At that moment my clenched fist flew from my side into the air dividing me between the explosive girl. I was never completely sure whether that was done to protect myself once the situation had gotten too threatening or to arm myself. I would have liked to think both even though my mind strayed to the fact that I may have had a deep compulsive moment that caused me to feel cheated and cowardly. Even as my ready weapon grazed the space a foot from my threat’s face her eyes still blazed with an undeniable heat that can only be described as hate. At the moment the thought of hurting this … longtime enemy of mine was a risk , knowing the edge she had againest me. I couldn’t imagine the advantage she had over me. At that moment, I could have sworn I saw a satisfied smile creep across her face ,but she turned around and I wasn’t ever sure. What? THis didn’t make since what so ever. was tough and she always got her way. Living in the ghetto, the way we had for so long, made you that way. Was this defeat, was is surrender? No sooner had I thought this, she was facing me again. This time she was practically growling under her breath, seething in loathesome horror and angst. Lowering her head, the pained noises stopped. I peeked under my unconciously dropping fist to see what she was doing, why she was doubled over in a look of hurt. She directed her eyes upward to make sure I was watching her next move. Then she smirked, satisfied and spat at my feet. THIS was the last straw, a sign meaning she had the utmost disrespect for me that a single human could possess. This… meant the same thing as go to he* but in another form. It seemed more like ‘I’m sending you there’. I couldn’t hold it in any longer. My hand cracked perfectly at her jawbone creating a sound that could only be heard at a baseball game. A deep gash in her dark face appeared, marking the spot my hard knuckles had hit . Looking up, she seemed suprised I would do such a thing, and she took a second to touch her wound. WE both stared a eachother, amazed for a moment. Then her dark brows pulled together forming deep creases in her forehead and I knew I had set forth a force that was never unleashed. So powerful , it didn’t know its own purpose. She pulled from her shorts a thick bladed knife. It’s sharp venomous blade caught the moonlight seeping in the alley so perfectly I could have seen attack me… if I would have chosen to open my eyes.