Waking to the sounds of his own hunger pains, his appetite could lay quenched no longer. The nights fever had cemented his eyes shut, he managed to scrape away what little crud there was. As he lay their twisting and turning as if trying to crush his own bones wit his muscles, he began his long and laborious trek from the prone to up right position still stretching, he rubbed the fronts of his teeth with the tip of his tongue slowly taking his time as if to he wanted to make sure each diamond were still in its place. Taking one last stretch he sprang forth; clumsily putting him house shoes on with each foot. he cups his balls bring them towards his stomach, he lets him self drop, out stretching his legs upon arrival he sits up straitening his back, he breathes in and then he exhales, and then after just a few bits of morning dust make there ways through the rays of light and land unknowingly on his face, he relaxes. Looking over to his night stand he saw that the clock read four thirty he thought to himself "and ill never catch the police at my door" he giggled to himself as he took a drag from his blunt.

He eventually made it out of his bathroom, the steam rising behind him as he stepped out. He picked the days apparel, black the color of the day all but the green and white soles of his number eleven Jordan's. The glare from his patten leather shoes reflected from the street lights off the candy coated Cutlass which stood in front of him, a click of a button and the driver door popped opened, revealing collage of cocaine white leather fragmented by Orange pipping, and held together with chrome accents. He stopped to look at his own reflection in the paint, hunched to one side, he rubbed his goatee. "I should have also got the remote start" he thought out load. Sliding into the driver seat ever so carefully he made sure that his shoes would not damage the embroidered floor matts, the clicking of his seat belt a wet tease of what was to come, as he slid the key in to the ignition, he sat back, long had he dreamed of this day, staring at his gauge cluster there between meters on top of woodgrain was a picture of them, the day he picked her up for the first time. As he turned the key he was greeted not with the strong roar his faithful lioness, but with a squeal, and a squeal and an explosion that shook the entire neighborhood. That gleaming orange beacon of Americana was know nothing more than a charred twisted piece of black soot on 24 in rims. Neighbors could be heard screaming along with the sounds of fire engines and ambulances some of the men tried to heard the women and children back in the homes this was not for any eyes to see.

That night Havier, got home a little later than usual, the smell of liquor lingered on his breath. On entering his home, he saw his family glued to the nightly news, his mother trying to catch him up, advised that they were going to beef up the police dept. Due to a rise in gang violence "There blowing each other up mijo, you boys need all the help you can get" she proclaimed. Oh and by the way, you left a garage door opener on the table when you came back this morning, I put it in your room, tell me what do they got you doing that early in the morning?" he said with a grin "gang prevention ma, fighting gangs head on"