Jeffrey never was the kinda guy who’d throw up gang signs and rep colors. He was the shy kid on the block, never spoke much, never interacted beyond a certain level and sure as hell didn’t resort to violence when situations seemed to get out of hand. He’d always had a way with words.
Jeffrey never sought vengeance on anybody for any reason at all. He was the peaceful kind, the one who believed in compromise and dialogue as opposed to brute force.
Jeffrey loved his parents and would ride or die for them, under any circumstances. He’d been groomed in a manner that was only fitting for any child to receive and had always made his parents proud, be it academics, extracurriculars and so on and so forth.
Jeffrey was never the kinda guy who’d go out a lot and do things he knew he shouldn’t be doing.
But Jeffrey never knew that the death of his parents might change all his values in an instant.
Jeffrey never knew that throwing up gang signs and repping colors was the only way to keep your family truly safe, in this place they called home.
Jeffrey never knew that sobriety was a long lost concept. Inebriation was the new reality of the neighborhood he’d grown up in.
Jeffrey never knew that violence would provide his conscience a serenity that he’d never experienced before.
Jeffrey never knew that one day, eventually everyone falls prey to the m.A.A.d city. Just like he had.