I got off my shift at work late today. It's 10:00 pm, and I walk down W. Adams Street in South Chicago Illinois, the 24 most dangerous neighborhood in America. I rode my bike to work but I guess I forgot to lock it, because when I get off work it's gone. No surprise though, things are always getting stolen around here. I guess I could call my sister, but I don't want to be a burden. It's late and she probably has a test tomorrow or something. She’s smart, school smart. But she's innocent, and I could put her in danger by asking her to come get me from this neighborhood at this time of night. I used to be like her. Young and on the path to success, but naive. Didn’t know what I was getting myself into.  As I pass Frank's Bakery I remember the night I first walked down this street with the people I used to call my friends. We were just messing around, walking down the street at midnight passing the beer bottle around. It was genuinely amusing. When we passed Franks I pointed it out to them, told them about it. I used to come there every day when my dad stopped there for breakfast on his way to work. I told them about how the place smelled, like sweet stuff and elbow grease. I guess I wasn't as drunk as they were, because as soon as I started talking about it they got the idea to gather up rocks and chuck them at the place. I don't know where they got that idea from, but I didn't like it. Despite my objections, they began pelting the place. Where I pass it on the street right now there is still tape over the windows where the beginning of the end started, I think it was that night I realized how destructive my friends really were. Of course I had been warned about them, but I didn't really listen. I stay on the far left of the sidewalk, away from the street. A stray syringe lays on the edge of the sidewalk, and I carefully step over it. Not because I'm afraid, but it brings up too many unpleasant memories. Up ahead is the factory. Smoke billows out of the building and up into the clouds, filling my lungs with toxins and causing more memories to surface out of the dark and into my mind…

We sit on the stairs in front of the door outside the factory, passing out cigarettes and downing our beers. James and Darnell sit with Allison and Chandra, whispering and giggling to each other like the rest of us aren't here. Me, Jake, Darian, and Austin all sit together in a semicircle.
“Yo, Jake, you hear about my cousin?” Austin bellows.
“What about ‘em?” Jake replies
“He got caught smokin’ on campus for the 5th time. They said next time could be an expulsion. Guess the guy did learn something from me eh?” We all crack up at Austin's comment. Austin had gotten expelled from his previous schools for the same reason as his cousin, that's how he ended up over here. I think this part of town suits him better.
“Hey Darian, you hear the cops are launching some big investigation in the factory-” he motions to the giant brick building we sit in front of.
“Apparently some guys have been sneakin’ around, buying drugs from each other and making the transactions in the basement. H---, there's even a rumor they're growing pot down there!” Jake exclaims.
“Of course there is and of course they are.” I say sarcastically not thinking much of it. How ridiculous was that? Growing pot in the basement. Suddenly, Jake stands up and swaggers over to me.
“Hey! Kid! You a newcomer?” He blurts out. Suddenly I feel small and intimidated. I've never talked directly to any of them before except Darian, who has been my close buddy since middle school when I moved here. He was the one that brought me here tonight. I look over at Darian for help but he is looking at the ground and dragging on a cigarette. Everything seems more quiet now.
“Uh, sure ya.” I reply nervously. Jake gets even closer and bends down so he's face to face with me.
“Whats with the smart Alec comment dude?” He asks slyly, as if he knows the answer I'm about to give and is prepared to pounce back. I choose to go with,
“I don't know, the whole thing just seems kind of unbelievable. Why would you grow drugs in a place where everyone can find them so easily?”
“Oh, so now are you calling me a liar? Saying I made this up?” Everyone looks at me but I'm not sure how to react. It's only the first time I’ve hung with these guys and I’m already in trouble with the alpha.
“No Jake- I mean sir- I mean… No.” Good going Mark, way to sound tough. Jake gets even closer to my face if that's even possible. His breath smells of smoke and a bitter odor.
“What's your name kid?” He asks.
“Mark” I say matter-o-factly.
“Well, Mark,” Jake pauses. “Welcome to the South Side”.

The present surfaces and I'm standing on those same steps in front of the factory that we gathered on many nights ago. I remember Jake and Austin. Both big characters who took a hard fall in life. I remember when I found out Austin was in rehab for heroin addiction, one of the hardest to recover from. He was one of my best friends. I also remember attending Jake's funeral. He was shot on some run down block around the town. I brought him flowers, the yellow ones he liked the smell of, and left a beer at his grave. “Ride or die right?” I say to myself as I step off the stairs and continue down the sidewalk. It's almost 11:00 now. How long was I daydreaming? My footsteps hit the ground ever so softly as I walk. I’m dozing off now. I have my route home memorized. One block straight, then turn left on Girard and walk three blocks to Abraham, then turn right twice onto Magnolia St…

We continue up the sidewalk to Magnolia street together. Once we get to Magnolia, we stop and pull out another pack of cigs. Me and Darian walk next to each other, conversing.
“So, you think your gonna like it here? You know, hanging out with them?” Darian asks me.
“Sure I guess,” I look over at the group and Chandra pulls some little white pills out of her purse and starts handing them out.
“They'll grow on me. It all will. It has to.” I say to Darian with growing determination. I grab one of the pills and pretend to take it, but I put it in my pocket. I look around us. Jake and Darnell are laughing and sitting on a bench drinking beers, and Allison is trying to look into the window of a beauty salon across the street.
“Guys-” starts Allison, but all of the sudden, shots burst out of nowhere. Allisons face explodes from joy into fear and she takes off running.
“Run!” screams Jake. Noise explodes everywhere. A red car zooms by and shots explode all around us. I run blindly, for I don't know where I'm going or what exactly we are running from. I see a dark alley behind the salon and call for Darian.
“Darian! Over here!” He catches my eye and makes a dash for me. We rush into the alleyway together and crouch out of sight until most of the noise is gone.
“What the h--- was that?” I angrily ask Darian.
“Another gang probably. I dont think it could have been the cops with the number of shots and screams I was hearing.” He lifts up his shirt and wipes the sweat off of his face, breathing heavily.
“Well where did everybody go?” I yell.
“Shhh. Man be quiet they might still be around don't get us both killed.” Darian scolds. I can't help it, tears start to stream down my face. Darian sees this and softens up.
“Hey man, everyone's ok I bet. Were gonna be ok. Let's get out of here.” I wipe my face and nod my head ok, and we cautiously descend from our hideout.

A crooked wooden sign reading MARG’S SALON in bold letters hangs above the building that might have saved our lives that night. I cross to it. When I look through the window, I see only dust and the rotting foundation of the old structure. The remains of what used to be, like everything else in this city. The weird thing about everything that has happened is, I'm not sure if I am better off now without them. When I was with them, sure I knew that wasn't who I was. I wasn't like them, willing to put my life on the line for a high that only lasted so long until they crashed and burned. But I felt like I had it off good because I had somewhere I could go, somewhere I belonged. They took me in and basically raised me in a city of ash and bones where everyone had nothing or a little more than it. Even though people told me that it's for my own good that i’m away from them now, I have never felt so lonely in my life. All my friends are gone or out of reach. I may be safer, healthier, and more successful, but I sure as h--- do not feel better off. I have reached home. I go up the four flights of metal stairs in our apartment building and open the creaky door to our room, 519. My sister stands in the kitchen, her hands on her hips, tapping her toes on the ground, a nervous gesture she got from our mother. When she sees me walk in her face turns to one of worry and relief and she starts bombarding me with questions. “Why were you out so late? Why didn't you call? Where's your bike? I could have come and gotten you!” When she's finished, I turn to her and answer with the simple sentence  Jake used when they changed my life back long ago. “Welcome to the South Side”, I say, and I go to bed.