Miaija Jawara
Stories (1/0)
The Almost Drop Out.
It’s almost summer in 2016. Drake and Rihanna dominate every major radio station. Obama is still president. It’s my senior year of high school and my peers and I have a bad case of senioritis. A dime bag of Mary Jane passed around 8 kids huddling in the park looking out for a security guard who cared enough to stop us. Life is good. From this perspective at least. After that dime bag emptied out and I got onto an A train going toward the heights my reality would come back to me. This year was supposed to be my year. College on the horizon. Prom, graduation, etc. everything a public school kid had to look forward to i found myself on the outskirts of. I had run away from home after the last physical altercation with my father that I would stand for. I grabbed my backpack and ran 13 flights down. Out the door and down the street I kept running. A cop car drove passed me sirens blaring. I knew it was for me. I ran faster. Neither my father or me were hurt by this altercation but he always wanted the last word. In this case the last word would be me in handcuffs.
By Miaija Jawara3 years ago in Education