Surviving in a Bad Neighborhood

I cannot sleep. My entire right side is in a lot of pain. So here I am, sitting rigidly at my computer at 7 in the morning thinking about what kind of story I’ll share for today’s prompt.

Honestly, I have never heard of this famous song about New York but these lyrics sure take me back. During my first years in the U.S, I lived in a very bad neighborhood in the suburbs of Los Angeles. Of course, now this neighborhood is a little better. At least, that’s what I’ve been told. But still, I think if you can make it in this town, you can make it anywhere because anywhere will just seems heavenly. 

By now, you might have hear me talk about my middle school days as the happiest time of my life but those days were also filled with adventures and failures.

Like failure to catch the thieves that stole my pencils and erasers. Well, those are small things but what my wallet, stolen right out of my backpack on the school bus that afternoon. Or my keys, stolen from the depth of my backpack while I was walking home from school with my friend. No wait, that was one of those victorious times. Thank god my friend noticed it and saw who did it.

The moment I noticed my keys were missing and saw the bully dangled it not far ahead from me, I sprinted, faster and faster, like my life depended on it. Unfortunately she was quicker. I was never a fast runner.

So I ran to the next best thing, the vice-principal. I told him about my stolen keys and who had it. He didn’t even have to go back to the office to check for the bully’s address. He knew exactly where to go. I got in the back seat and he got in the front and we sped to the girl’s house like cops.

When we got there, the girl was actually standing outside dangling my keys as if she was waiting for us. The moment she saw the vice-principal get out of the car, her victorious grin faded.

“Hand over the keys, Daisy.” I heard him say and willingly, she surrendered the keys to the vice-principal.

That was easy, right? Unfortunately, like all stories, there’s a twist. The villain is never satisfy when they loses and when they’re unsatisfied, they seek vengeance .

Several weeks after the keys incident as well as the hair-touching incident (another time), both bullies sought revenge against me. My mother couldn’t come to pick me up from school one day and she didn’t want me walking home alone. So she told me to take the school bus.

I didn’t realize until I sat down that the two bullies were sitting behind me. I quickly wrapped my arms around my backpack and hugged it against my chest to prevent anymore thievery. Just before I got off, I made sure that every zipper was closed before I swung my backpack over my shoulder.

The next day at school, I searched my entire backpack for my library card. My wallet was missing and I knew exactly who had it. I went to vice-principal and reported my wallet went missing and told him my suspicion.

He brought the girl to his office and asked her but she denied. Case closed, just like that. On the way out, she smirked at me and to this day, I still think it was her who had stolen my wallet just like her best friend took my keys.

2 thoughts on “Surviving in a Bad Neighborhood

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