Literature
The Path Home
As I turned the corner, the hooker glared at me as if I had something she wanted, something she wanted badly. Of course, I was only twelve at the time. I didn't know she was a hooker, and I didn't know exactly what it was she wanted from me. Whatever it was, I wasn't going to give it to her. I turned away and continued on my usual path home.
I hadn't noticed the police cars blocking my hood 'till I was a block away from my pad. A police officer was mercilessly pushing an arrested man into his LAPD car, which read "To protect and to serve".
I checked out the house the man was dragged out from. All lights turned off, windows as stained as rus