"Get the hell out of my house!" She screamed at him. It wasn't uncommon for them to fight like this. As a matter of fact, it was daily routine. She was over the edge this time. He pushed her limits. Gambled and lost. Yet another school he was expelled from. Number 13, I think.

"You don't have to ask me twice," Jonny retorted. Not like he cared, it was all the same to him. He made his way to the closet in his living room, which also served as a dining room, and his bedroom. He opened it up, looking for his favorite jacket.

"We slave away to provide a good education for you, and how do you repay us?" She bellowed, "You little ingrate, you don't care do you?"

Jonny avoided eye contact. "I really don't. " He said as he pulled his leather jacket on. The one his father had given him, on his deathbed. When he told Jonny, he was destined for something great. Dad understood, he wasn't blind like mom.

Mom used to understand, or at least pretended to. When dad was around, she used to care. The moment the man died, it's as if she lost the will to live, but didn't have the guts to take her own life. Something she regrets constantly.

"And don't you dare come back!"

Jonny slipped a pack of cigarettes in his pocket. He picked up the habit after his father died. Dad was the glue that held the family together, but what did it matter now; he was dead. Mom seemed to clutch on to the hope that he would come back some day. Poor delusional woman.

"I love you too, Mom"

Dad was shot down, because of his job. He dealt drugs, the only sure fire way to make money around here. He was shot down by some punk who didn't want to pay. Wanted a high for free. Pop wouldn't allow it; he had a family to provide for. Damn kid pulled out a gun; bang, square through the neck.

That's why mom was so hard on him, so he wouldn't end up like his father. He didn't see what was so bad; dad was a hero.

"Be careful," Mom pleaded, "It's a bad neighborhood."

Jonny walked up to Mom and kissed her on the cheek. "I will." He said, making his way out the door.

That was Mom for you. If she yelled; she cared. And Jonny was the stubborn son she would always butt heads with. All they had left was each other, and now she let Jonny go, and make himself a better life than she could ever give him. There was no doubt in her mind, he would.

Jonny walked in no particular direction. That was an interesting way to end the day. He was supposed to embark on some great life adventure, and he had no idea how to begin. Where to go? He didn't have friends, just a girlfriend. Problem was he didn't trust her. Jonny was more than certain, she was cheating on him. And had he actually cared for her, he might just give a damn. Seeing as he had no choice, he'd drop by her place. Onward!

Alyson lived in a trailer park. The slums within the slums. He had no idea how, or when they started going out. One day he just woke up, his life was just a little crappier. So that makes it about a month. Cool.

He walked through the park, the quickest way to her humble abode. As he walked, he noticed kids still at the park. You'd think of all places, we'd have a strict curfew. Or at least have one. He wondered of they lived around here. Pity if they did.

What would they do with the rest of their lives? What would he do? That kid on the swing with his head tilted back. He's got great ease about him, he'd be a pimp. Those two girls racing down the slides, they were blond so…hookers. The kid keeping his distance from the rest. Reclusive, shy…murderer. The kid distributing all the candy, no brainer. Drug dealer. Sad thing was, he was probably right.

He frowned, no wait, upside down smile, sorry.

The kid on the bench, solving a puzzle. He'd be a smart one, genius maybe. If the murderer kid didn't kill him out of jealousy, he'd make a great lawyer. What a pity he'd be killed at school, probably around eighth grade, for being the only one capable of finding a way out of this hell hole.

Good luck kids, you'll need it. Why was it that all those with enough brains or ambition to change the world, always get dealt crappy hands? Then their brilliance is used for crime, their ambition for murder. Then the world blames us, for having bad luck.

The stupidest kid in these slums could be the kingpin of any other neighborhood.

Well, Godspeed to you. He had to get to Alyson's house.

He left the park, and came to Palm Springs trailer park. AS he drew closer to Alyson's house, he realized there were no lights on. That wasn't like Alyson. He knew he wouldn't like what he saw when he went inside, but he did it anyway. Knocking was an outdated concept; you're only safe when you have nothing to hide.

He pulled on the handle and drew the door open. Inside he saw Alyson without her shirt, fumbling on top of Marcus, his lab partner. She looked surprised to see him. And why wouldn't she? Caught in the act.

"Haven't you ever heard of knocking?" she shrieked.

Jonny took a seat on her couch, pretend as if he hadn't seen a thing. He put his feet on a quaint little coffee table, the only decorative piece of furniture in the whole room. "Marcus, long time no see," Jonny started, "could you give us a moment?" Jonny sat there with a peaceful expression, and flaming eyes. Marcus knew enough stories about Jonny, to know that he was in danger.

"You should have called or something." Here she goes again, trying to divert he blame. Because little Ms. Perfect couldn't possibly be wrong.

"I thought you'd like a surprise visit. You've always told me to be more spontaneous." He paused for effect," you look cold, should I hand you your bra?"

"Cut the crap Jonny, what do you want?"

"I got kicked out of my place, wondered if I could crash here tonight." That wasn't his plan, he meant to say goodbye to her and go sleep under the overpass. In the morning he would pick up and move on. But if he could get a warm bed, and a hot chick, it was a huge bonus.

"Sure whatever," she said, "would you hand me my shirt?" She said pointing to a bundle of clothes piled in the corner. There were enough clothes for two people. Jonny realized that Marcus must have left without his clothes; Jonny chuckled. Poor Marcus, he was probably freezing his nads off.

Jonny handed her the shirt. As she reached for it, he pulled it away from her reach.

"Actually, I rather like you like this, Au naturale"

"Shut up, you dick," she said snatching the shirt from his hands. He laughed a bit. Not that he found it funny, but laughing always made him feel better. And boy could he use a little cheering up.

He reached in his pocket and pulled out one of his cigs. Another one of those things that made him feel better.

"Do you mind not smoking in the house?" she demanded, "my parents don't like it." In reality she meant, 'my parents don't like you, and the smell of smoke let's them know you were here." But whatever.

He stepped outside for a minute or two. Either life was written by monkeys, or they couldn't find any good writers at a cheap price.

He blew smoke into the oncoming wind. It came back to his face, like everything else; it always ends up being shoved in your face.

Alyson stepped out after putting her clothes on. "Look Jonny," she started, "about Marcus—"

"What about Marcus?"

"Listen, I'm sorry I cheated on you, but," she stopped for a moment, "I mean, how long have we been together?"

Jonny looked her in the face. "Too long." He got up, and stuffed his hands in his pockets, staring at the horizon. For some reason, staring off into the distance helped him think clearer. He loosened his lips letting the cigarette drop to the ground, and he stomped it out.

"What does that mean!" She became defensive, like always. You just couldn't talk to her; she wouldn't listen.

"Look, I think you're great," he stopped and went over his words in his head, "nah, who am I kidding, I'm only saying that to make you feel better. The fact of the matter is that…I just don't love you"

She stared at him through the burning tears. And had he cared about her, he might actually give a damn.

"I've taken too much crap already," Jonny explained.

"What have I done to you? I can change I promise!"

Jonny looked at her. Pathetic. Of course no matter what she said, and how much she thought she meant it, she'd be the exact same person in the end.

"Not just from you, "Jonny fixed his jacket, "from everyone. I'm getting out of here, starting over. Maybe I'll call you some day, but no promises." And with that he walked away, in what he hoped was a dramatic moment.

He went back through the park on his way to the overpass. Those kids were still there, but this time they were gathered around the "murderer" kid, and the "lawyer" kid. Who were attempting to rip each other to shreds, for a smart kid, that "lawyer" kid was sure aggressive. But the "murderer" kid, he was bad news. He was right after all. He hated being right about these kinds of things. This place was a vortex, it sucked in happiness, and left a void; Jonny was lucky to be getting out of here.