Waking up this morning, I notice something is different. This room isn’t my bedroom. Then what is it? I see a heart rate monitor along with fluid tubes and other medical supplies. I realize that this is a hospital. How did I get here? Why am I here? Last night is a blur; all I remember is running, but from whom?

I look down and feel the bandages grasping my leg, and I remember. A group I am apart of, but want to get out of shot me. I joined them two years ago, when I was having problems. I felt alone and needed a group to support me and understand me. This group was the only group that took me in, but there is one problem. It is a gang.

Gangs are nearly impossible to get out of once you’re in. It is like a brotherhood, and when you leave, the other members feel betrayed. You also are now a danger to them. All the bad things they have done, you know about. They worry about being revealed to the police, and they wouldn’t have a problem killing you if it means keeping themselves safe.

This is where my problem begins. At first we did small dealings, and I was usually just a guard. I’m pretty sure a 6’ 3”; 220lb black guy is a good fit for that job. Even though my name is Dante Washington, they called me the “Defense” for I had to protect them from any situation. But, then they wanted to get into bigger things. They wanted to begin smuggling large amounts of drugs and selling them throughout the Bronx. The sentence for that could be years, years that I do not want to serve. So I left. I began to miss meetings and stopped taking part in their “Jobs,” and I guess they figured it out.

Yesterday, while walking home in a snowstorm, they found and confronted me, asking me all these questions. Things like “Where were you,” “What have you been doing,” and “Why haven’t you contacted us?” These were all things I didn’t know how to answer. Then the leader said something that made me fear for my life.

He said, “Get him!”

I ran as fast as I could, but there is one thing too fast to outrun. A bullet! That is the last thing that I remember, and now I find myself here.

“How are you feeling?” asked the nurse as she walked in.

“There is a lot of pain, and I am very tired.”

“Yeah, well there are some cops here that need to ask you some questions. Are you well enough for that?”

“Yeah I should be fine.”

As the cops walked in, I wondered what would the gang do to me if they find out I snitched.

“Hello my name is Lieutenant Barret and this is Lieutenant Smith. We have some questions we need to ask you about last night. Do you remember what happened?

“All I remember is running and then getting shot in the leg.”

“Do you know why?”

This question made me think. If I tell them why, this whole situation will get worse. Maybe I should just let things play out and have them find hard evidence. So, I replied, “No, I don’t know why.”

“Well do you know who did it?”

“You know what, today is not the best day. I don’t feel like answering all of these questions.” I just knew that I couldn’t tell them that my old gang did this to me. So, finally the cops left and I got some more rest.

The hospital just released me saying that I was well enough to go home. They told me to stay off my feet, and to get as much rest as possible. When I got home, I was glad to see all of the decorations and lights out. And, when I entered my house, my mom embraced me saying that I have to be more careful, and that she was so scared.
Then nothing really happened for a couple of days. Until, on the third day I got a call from the police. They had found some DNA on my clothing that didn’t belong to me. It had matched some DNA found at other crime scenes, and was determined to be from the leader of my old gang. Then they told me some bad news. My DNA had matched some found at the same crime scene as my leader’s.
I had been caught! Since I have just turned into an adult, these charges could become years in prison. But, then the officer on the phone told me that if I made a confession and told them about some crimes that my gang had done, they would drop the charges on me. This worried me because the gang would still kill me for snitching. So I told the officer this. He then told me that the confession could stay confidential, and that no one would ever find out about it. When he told me this, I became all in for giving it.
The next day I went to the police station to give my confession. I told them about some of our small drug dealings, a couple of our fights with other gangs, and how they wanted to grow into a bigger smuggling business. Then they asked me for the names of the members. It was a pretty long list of about twenty-five names and when I was done, they said they would call me with news of what happens.
Another couple days later, on Christmas Day, I got a call. They said that when they went looking for the men I told them about, they were on their way to finish a drug deal and had ten pounds of cocaine on them. By finding this cocaine, the gang’s jail time has been increased by about fifteen years. Good news for me because this means I won’t have to deal with these guys for a long, long time. I am free. Free from something evil that nobody should be a part of. This is the best Christmas gift ever. Not even old St. Nick could have brought a better one.