BLIND

There once was a kid who looked at Barbie dolls and tore off their heads and used them as weapons to throw at the girls they looked like. This kid would look for trouble going to nearby neighborhoods to steal other kidsâ?? bikes. His name was Ashley. Kids would pick on him daily saying his hair was weird and nappy, skin was as black as a sharpie and his skin was ashy. He was independent. His heart and mind contended, not understanding life at the age of thirteen, so his outside personality pretended on being dependent. Friends were also enemies, participated in many of their immoral festivities just to be a
F-R-I-E-N-D not knowing what that word meant:
Faithful
Rebuking
Incomprehensible
Everlasting
Non-Judgmental
Defending
Friendâ?¦All he was, was another adolescent trying to fit his way in. In his mind he hated being with a group but wanted to ride on his own, but later this desire to be liked had grown. Before this used to be an in-school thing, sagging pants, long t-shirts and NikNike'sou know that type of thing. Along with that he received Detentions and Suspensions which made his parentsâ?? suspicious, but no disciplinary action made this kid vicious. Every afternoon after school he would walk over the threshold and enter into a broken home, he would rush to his bedroom to cry on his pillow because he felt that he was all alone. Or at least he thought he was, not understanding the concept of friend buried trust 6 feet in. So he exited his bedroom, tears awaiting its fall on his bottom eyelid and he stepped back over the threshold and the last thing he heard was the sweet silence of the bullet piercing through his skin burying himself 6 feet in. In himself he stopped forgivin that he allowed himself to be kind, so I guess he thought that the bullet would prevent him from really seeing what he was insideâ?¦BLIND